Brothers
by MidniteDancer
Summary: Matthew discovers Alfred standing with his stuff on his doorstep. Again. But, while his brother tries to get over a previous break-up, Matthew begins to notice something different. Their relationship begins to change. AmCan/Human names used/Future incest
1. Chapter 1

Brothers Ch. 1

Matthew cursed as he stood from the couch to go see who was knocking so persistently on his front door. During a hockey game. _Why __the __hell __did __someone __decide __to __remember __me __now!_

He flung open the door, fully prepared to tell whoever it was to _go __the __fuck __away_ but… "Hey Mattie…" Alfred smiled sheepishly up at his younger brother clutching a pillow and some rolling luggage.

Mattie had been in this situation before, "Ivan kicked you out?" Alfred's smile turned apologetic. Matthew sighed, "Come in. Quickly, there's a game on." Alfred nodded and grabbed the bag before coming in quickly. Matthew shut the door behind him, "You remember where your room is?" Alfred nodded.

When he left the Canadian resituated himself back on the couch, "Oh, what the fuck!" Toronto had scored twice on Ottawa seemingly as soon as he got up.

"Did I make you miss your game Matt?" Alfred had come back downstairs. Mattie grumbled something unintelligible. Alfred grinned again, "Sorry."

Matthew sighed, "It's alright," he gestured to the other corner of the couch, "Have a seat. It's the Senators against Maple Leafs

"Toronto's winning?" Mattie grunted and Alfred chuckled.

They sat in comfortable silence until it flipped to commercial. Mattie turned to his twin, "You want something to eat?"

"Uh…"

"I'll go get some popcorn." He got up and moved to the kitchen. While the snack was heating up Matthew came back to observe his brother from the doorway. When Al realised he was being watched he turned and met his blue eyes with the odd purple-blue ones of his brother. "Why now?"

Alfred looked back at the television before speaking, "Francis was right."

"Francis? Are you sure?"

"Wasn't he the one who bet on Yao?"

Matthew's face heated up. When Alfred started dating the Russian Matthew and some guys he works with made a betting pool to see what would happen to the couple. Gilbert, the self-proclaimed Prussian, thought they'd kill each other. Antonio, the Spaniard, figured they'd stay together to sex each other out of anger. Lovino, an Italian, bet Natalia, Ivan's creepy little sister, would kill the American. Mathis thought Toris (the Lithuanian heated up and objected) could steal the Russian away. Mattie bet (hoped) that two would just get bored with each other and separate. Francis, a Frenchman very close to Mattie, had a feeling that Ivan had eyes for the Chinaman, Yao.

Damn, looks like he won the pot.

The beeping of the microwave brought Mattie back to the present but he ignored it for the moment. "It's not your fault you know."

Alfred raised an eyebrow humourlessly, "Oh?"

Mattie considered telling all that he told him that getting together with Ivan was a bad idea, but he figured that'd be cruel. Mattie shrugged, "Of course not. How could any of this have been your fault, eh?"

"Well…"

"Don't even get into it. The relationship was doomed from the start." Okay, so he was still a little sore about missing his game, "And don't even tell me you didn't go out with him out of spite."

Alfred looked back at the television and said nothing. Mattie went back into the kitchen and withdrew the cooling bag of popcorn and poured it into a bowl before returning to his seat on the couch. The game had come back on but it didn't seem as exciting now as it did before.

But, of course, Alfred cracked in the silence first, "It's not…"

"I know Al," he sighed before turning to face his brother, "But perhaps it'd be best to stay single for a while, eh? Jumping partners like this all the time doesn't seem healthy."

Alfred thought for a moment before breaking out into a very recognisable grin, "Hell yeah! The hero's free and loose!" He fist pumped and Mattie rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "But, hey," his smile turned sheepish again and the Canadian groaned inwardly, "Since I've been crashing at," he paused, "My previously un-exed boyfriends place, do you think I could stay here for a time?"

Mattie rubbed his eyes, "Sure Al, whatever you need." The American fist pumped again before focusing back on the game, munching on the popcorn. Mattie smiled fondly at his brother before turning up the Canadian hockey fan again.

~X~

Matthew woke up the next morning with a headache and lying in a very uncomfortable position. He groaned. _What __the __hell_? The smell of pancakes and bacon drifted to his nose causing his stomach to growl hungrily. _Who_?

Then last night came back to him. Alfred arriving, their talk, then the Senators crushing the Leafs and he celebrated by downing four beers in quick succession. He must have passed out on the couch.

Gingerly he sat up and made his way to the kitchen. His brother was working by his stove on breakfast. Al must have heard him because he turned around and grinned, "Good morning Mattie!" The Canadian winced at his brother's loud voice, "You look like the living dead!" He turned backed to the stove, "I was actually fairly impressed that you managed to down that fourth beer. You're a beast when it comes to hockey!" Matthew groaned before turning away to take a shower.

After the shower (and a few aspirin) he was feeling marginally better. He was still drying his blond hair with a towel when he re-entered the kitchen, "Smells good in here Al, you finally pick up on my cooking?" He let the towel drop around his neck as he replaced his glasses to find his brother staring at him in a peculiar fashion, "Al?"

"How is it people are always getting us mixed up?"

Mattie gave a light chuckle before grabbing a plate of breakfast and moving back to the living room. He winced when he saw what a mess the place was. It was a relatively contemporary space, contemporary but simple. There was a brown couch in front of the new flat screen and in between the two was a small coffee table. The table and couch were now covered in popcorn and empty beer bottles and garbage. He swept his corner of the couch clear before sitting down to eat. Alfred took the other corner.

"Actually," Mattie continued, "People confuse _me_ for _you_. I've kind of gotten used to it."

Alfred grimaced, "Sorry."

"'s not your fault. It just is." Mattie didn't see Al glance over at him while he ate.

* * *

><p>Here it is! The beginning of another multi-chaptered fic. It's based off of http: browse. deviantart. com/?q=brothers%20hetalia%20america%20canada&order=9&offset=120#/d3kdgir . Thus far I've gotten to chapter ten, so it will definitely be long. (I fail at hyperlinks.)

Disclaimers:  
>-Human names used<br>-Grammer/spelling issues  
>-I just looked up Canadian hockey teams, please don't hate me for the random usage of random teams<br>-Future incest  
>-I do NOT own Hetalia<p>

Please don't hate me.


	2. Chapter 2

Mattie was working quietly when he was attacked.

No, wait, glomped. He was glomped by his American brother.

Isn't that just as bad? "Hey, Mattiiieee!"

The Canadian set his pen down before rubbing his eyes in slight irritation, "Al, I'm working."

"I know, but it's almost dinner time and you've been in here aallll dayyy! And I'm hungrryyyy!"

Matthew made a mental note to pick up more aspirin, "Al, I have…"

"Puh-leeeze!"

Matthew sighted, "Alright, fine!" Alfred did a signature fist pump, "But I'm choosing where we go."

"Awww…"

~X~

Although Matthew and Alfred were twins their personalities couldn't be more different. Alfred was loud and friendly, but most people tended to think he was irritating rather then like him. He's the iconic America, good-looking, loud, and always eating (no matter how much he ate though, he always stayed athletically fit). His favourite was, of course, McDonalds.

Matthew, on the other hand, was very quiet and kind of forgetful. Actually, people who've never even met Alfred mistake him for his brother. Unless there was a hockey game, he's never quiet when the Senators were playing. He _loves_ pancakes and makes them better than anyone else anyone knows. Those are really good pancakes.

Their parents separated while they were three because their father discovered that his wife had been having an affair with a guy in Canada, resulting in the twins. When they split their mom took Matthew and moved in with her boyfriend in Canada while their "father" took up residence in Philly with Alfred.

One day, Alfred being the snoop he was, when they were 13, Alfred discovered a written letter written in flowing handwriting to his father. Intrigued, he opened it. This was how he discovered that his mom, who he was told had died, had just had a falling out with her boyfriend, and how she was wrong, and she still loved him, and if _only_ he would answer her calls, letters, and emails.

But most importantly, Al read that he had a twin.

It was just like in a movie! Before his dad got home, Al called the number in the letter. The first thing he heard was, "Charlie! You called! I-!"

Alfred told the woman that he wished to speak to Matthew. She hesitated but eventually agreed. Alfred didn't like her. The two boys talked for three straight hours after getting over some initial awkwardness. They continued to correspond heavily every day, even into their college years.

Matthew only went for two years before landing a job at the International Tourism and Travel Company (ITTC) where he still works today, not the senior Canadian correspondent.

Alfred received a scholarship to a college in the UK. It was there where he honed his tech skills. Before he graduated he already had five patents, four sold to some large corporations and one under a pseudonym, and was already sitting on a good sum of cash.

It was at college where he met his first boyfriend, Arthur Kirkland, an English Literature major. They dated for a year before the relationship dissolved. Alfred then went to Dallas to work for a time and got together with a Mexican girl while he was there. He flew straight back to the school, though when he'd heard Arthur had broken up with his Scottish boyfriend. They resumed their rocky relationship for four months before Arthur fell for a Frenchman, the same one, actually, that Mattie worked with. Out of spite, Alfred hooked up wit a Russian hockey player up in Canada for a time.

And, well, the rest is history.

The two never actually met until their mother's funeral when they were twenty. She was killed in a car accident, ironically involving a moose. Their "father" disappeared a few weeks after. Even now, no one knows where he's at…

~X~

"Trust me Al, this place is amazing. Feli owns and runs the place, so it's definitely good."

"But… It looks so small…"

"That's what she said," they both snorted in immature laughter.

"Wait, Feli?"

"Yeah, Feliciano, my friend from college, remember? I work with his brother…" he trailed off waiting for his brother to catch on.

"Feliciano, Feliciano," Alfred looked like he was riffling through mental files. For all his antics and social life, Alfred was highly intelligent. One just had to be patient, "Oh! Yeah, yeah, the one who likes pasta. So this is his little place."

The two were now closely approaching a small café that looked more suited to the Italian countryside rather than small town Canada. It had that rustic feel to it, there were some tables outside in front of a large window that read _PASTA_. "And that's their specialty," Matthew spoke to his brother.

They entered the small establishment to be promptly glomped (for Mattie, for the second time today) by a bubbly, smiling Italian, "Mattie~! I'm so happy to see you~!

Matthew hugged him back, "Yeah, but I was just here Wednesday."

"That was too long ago!" Suddenly e turned to Alfred with questioning caramel eyes. The American smiled and waved, "You're a Mattie number two?" He scrutinised Alfred closer, "Just not as attractive."

Matthew laughed out loud while Alfred gave an insulted "Hey!"

When Matthew clamed down he looked at the Italian, "This is my brother Alfred, or Al. I've told you about him."

"Si! Of course. Welcome Alfredo!" The brothers snorted laughter again. They were lead to their seats, still chuckling, buy the perpetually smiling Italian. The café-like restaurant was comfortable and welcoming. The walls held sconces and paints of the Italian countryside. The walls seemed to be stucco in a warm beige. The floor was carpeted in a burgundy wine that matched the cushions on the booths. "_Il solito, Mattie_?"

"_Si, __Quello che vuoi_**.**" The Italian grinned deviously before skipping away.

Matthew turned back to his brother to find him staring at him, "Didn't know I was multilingual, eh?" Alfred shook his head dumbly. Mattie smiled, "Feli taught me in college so we could converse in private. And, thanks to his brother, I can swear better in Italian than French."

"What's his brother's name again?"

"Lovino. Their both Vargas'."

Alfred raised his eyebrows, "Vargas. Isn't that…?"

"The name of the head of the Italian mafia? Yes. And," he lowered his voice and leaned in, "I hear that he's training one of his grandsons to be his successor."

"His grandsons? They are...?"

Matthew raised an eyebrow, "Feli and Lovi of course." He leaned back and watched his brother's surprised expression.

After a short stunned silence, "Dude, you know what this means?" now Alfred leaned in and spoke low, "You have some mad contacts in the mafia."

"I know." He grinned.

"You may have one-upped me," Alfred leaned back, still staring at his brother.

"Your business men can't handle a bunch of Italians?"

"Psh, not those kind of Italians. Feliciano, I think, they could handle."

Matthew raised his eyebrows, "Oh, I think you'd be surprised. I've only seen Feli become really angry twice; the guy's scary," Matthew paused to think a moment, "I think he's always armed. His favourites are his stilettos although he's no stranger to a gun."

"Stilettos? Like, shoes?"

Matthew shook his head, "Good God no! Really, with all your movie watch…" he sighed seeing Al's clueless face, "It's a knife. A supremely thin blade set in a small handle; it's easily concealed and was a popular assassination weapon about a century ago. They're razor sharp and, if one knows how to use them, are deadly in close combat."

Matthew smiled slightly at Alfred's gaping face, "That. Is. Awesome. Do you think he'll show me?"

"Ve~ Who show you what, Alfredo?" Feliciano had gracefully re-entered the dining room bearing a plate of food in each hand. He was smiling as happily as ever when he set the plates of food in front of the twins. When neither of them spoke he turned to the Canadian, "Mattie, you're not telling your brother all my secrets, are you~?"

Alfred could have sworn Feli's smile just took on an Ivan-like characteristic. Matthew grinned back, "Of course not. But he would be interested to see part of your collection. Oh, and I haven't seen that new acquisition yet!"

Feliciano put a finger on his chin cutely as he thought, "Ve~ Lovi's going out to see Antonio tomorrow evening. Come by at about six, alright~?" He smiled innocently again while the Canadian nodded, then skipped back into the kitchen.

Alfred sat and blinked a few times while his brother started to eat the pasta, "Why shouldn't Lovino be there?"

Matthew looked up and swallowed his forkful before answering, "Because he doesn't like it when people see their toys."

* * *

><p>Hello! Chapter 2!<p>

I didn't really know where else to sneak in their background, so here it is. ^_^  
>Yes, Mattie is good friends with Feli. I really like the idea of that.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

Alfred stood by Matthew's car door and stared up at the structure before him.

This was not a "house".

The drive-way was guarded by a black iron wrought gate that immediately swung open sat they drove by. The gate was actually the only way Alfred realised it was a drive-way and not a road. It was about halfway down the tree lined drive that Alfred started thinking something was up. And then they arrived at the Vargas' fucking _mansion_. The building was three stories tall with two wings on either side. Alfred was no architect but even he could see that the place was unique. Surrounding the off-white building were acres of green manicured lawn.

"Alfred! Stop gawking and come on, eh?" Matthew was already halfway up the walk leading to the door.

He didn't make it, though. While he was looking back at his brother the door burst open and a form tackled the Canadian. Alfred turned momentarily, thinking maybe they set off some alarm, but relaxed as they (barely) remained standing. "Ve~!" sounds emitted from the tackler. So Alfred braced himself when Feli also tackled him. "Alfredo! I'm so glad you could come over~!"

He made it sound like _he_ invited _them_. Are all Italians like this? "Hey Feli. Glad to see you."

The smiling Italian semi-detached himself from Alfred, but gripped his arm as he drug him inside, "Com on Alfie! Mattie you know where we're going."

"Just because I've been here twice before does not mean I know where I'm going." He followed them in.

The inside of the mansion was just like the outside; huge, extravagant, yet relatively simple. But Feliciano didn't give Alfred enough time to take in the sights. The brunette was babbling about nothing and the sound of his voice and their footsteps echoed across the marble floor of the entrance hall. Hallways were lined with, seemingly original, paintings and royal blue runners.

Several dizzying turns and one flight of stairs downward later, the trio found themselves downstairs outside a pair of heavy oaken doors. Feliciano grinned deviously as he inserted a key in the lock. Before he turned it, though, he swivelled around to look at Alfred. It was the most serious he's seen Feli since he's met him, "You will not tell anyone about this." It wasn't a question but Alfred gulped and nodded anyway.

The Italian smiled again, innocently, "Ok! Let's go~!" He unlocked the door with a click and opened the panels while stepping in.

Alfred couldn't move. _Who the fuck is this guy!_

At a first glance, the room could pass as a high class conference room. The room was hardwood and the long, oval table seemed to be mahogany. Cushioned wheelie chairs surrounded it and there was a liquor cabinet along the right wall beneath a huge TV screen.

And then you looked at the other side. Every single weapon Alfred has ever heard of, and many he did not, lined the walls and cabinets. There was a section dedicated to handguns, all sleek and black and shiny (Alfred's never usually around weapons, if you can tell). Those transitioned into rifles and shotguns. Towards the end there was a rocket launcher. There was another section dedicated to swords. Japanese looking swords, swords that would have fit in with King Arthur's Round Table, a sword that looked like one from the American Civil War, on that was covered in an intricate Celtic designs, swords that were shiny and polished, and even some that were covered in flaking, dried blood.

And then there seemed to be a section for things that didn't really fit anywhere else. Flamethrowers from the first World War, several grenades form the second, a mace, a jar filled with a liquid labelled "tear gas", several types of bows and arrows from different eras, a real javelin, some throwing stars and knives_, _and in the middle of the chaos were pictures of Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

Alfred was staring at the pictures when a cheerful voice spoke beside him, "Ve~ Nonno really wants and atomic bomb someday…"

Alfred's head whipped around to ogle at the Italian. _Holy shit, he's insane._

"Feli," Mattie called. Alfred marvelled at how calm his twin sounded. He reasoned that he must have been around the Italian too long and picked up some of his crazy. Matthew pointed to a rather plain looking sword with a slightly curved blade, "Is this it?"

"_Si_," He moved over beside the other brother, Alfred followed. Feliciano smiled at him and explained, "This sword was used in the battle with Constantine."

Alfred stared at the weapon, "Seriously?"

Matthew turned to look at his brother, "Do you even know when that was?"

"Well, not the _exact_ date. But it's what helped set up Rome or something like that."

Mattie shrugged, "Better than I expected."

Feliciano sighed when Alfred grinned triumphantly, "If it wasn't for your looks I wouldn't have expected you two to be related~."

The Canadian smiled, "Same with you and Lovi."

Feli blinked a moment, "Touché."

"Speaking of," Alfred broke in, gazing around again, "Do you know how to use any of these."

The Vargas grinned, all innocence and naivety gone, "Most of them," he moved to grasp the handle of a sabre. Delicately, he withdrew it from its perch and examined the blade, "Some I favour more than others." Moving with the swiftness and grace of an assassin, he snatched a second sabre and tossed it hilt first to Matthew. Then he quickly positioned himself across from the blonde and waited.

Alfred instinctively took a step backward. When he'd finally processed hat was going on he said, "Mattie!"

But his brother was smiling like Feliciano and held the sabre like an expert, "Just stay out of the way Al." He didn't have to be told twice.

Using a gesture unseen by Alfred, the Canadian and Italian began simultaneously to circle each other. The unarmed man backed himself into the wall, watching his sweet, quiet brother and the scared, air headed Italian circle each other, grinning like maniacs.

And those were real, sharp blades.

Matthew moved first, making a stab at the Italian's abdomen, Feliciano easily parried the move and let his momentum carry him around so that he could strike Matthew from behind. Alfred cried out, but his twin dropped to the floor, rolled and swiped at Feliciano's ankles. He jumped, narrowly missing the blade.

The two fought like pros; Alfred vaguely remembered Matthew saying he fenced in high school and college.

Both men were slender, quick on their feet, and deadly quiet; Alfred only ever heard the occasional clang of the blades. Not even the scuffling of their shoes was very audible. Matthew seemed to have a bit more physical strength than the Italian, but he was less agile. And evidently less experienced. Feliciano drew first blood, leaving a narrow scratch on the Canadian's right hand. Matthew hissed and Alfred's breath hitched.

The battle moved slowly across the room, Feliciano pushing his opponent back towards the table. Realising his proximity to the furniture, he leapt up onto the table and flung the closest chair out at Feliciano. The Italian stumbled away from the flying object and was out of reach from Matthew. For a moment they stared at each other, panting heavily. Then Matthew was joined on the table by the Italian and the fight resumed.

Through slight sounds of battle, Alfred heard a faint sound of out of faint footsteps rushing down the hall. They opened the door. The fighters didn't notice it, but Alfred saw Feliciano's twin's eyes go wide and slightly terrified at the sight on the table. When he reached into his jacket Alfred knew what was going to happen next, "Mattie hit the deck!" Alfred bolted across the room, used another chair as a step, and tackled his brother off the table. The shot went off before they hit the ground.

* * *

><p>Chapter 3!<p>

Ok, explication. I'm, eh, not going to be here next Sunday. You see, I'm going to be spending my Thanksgiving break in, er, coughHawaiicoughcough.

_What?_

THAT'S RIGHT! I'M GONNA BE IN HAWAII B****ES! Well, it's for a marching band trip but still, I HOPE IT SNOWS ON YOU ALL!  
>Mwahahaha!<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

Matthew was stunned. He was also covered in sweat and lying on the ground. Well, not directly on the ground. Mostly on top of his brother. Alfred had twisted on their decent to further protect his brother. Wait….

Mattie gasped, "Alfred!" he twisted to look at his brother who winced in slight pain, "What happened? Are you ok?"

"I'll be fine once you get off my rib cage."

"Oh, sorry!"

Mattie scrambled to his feet and reached down to help his brother up. From behind him he heard Feli lightly hop down from the table, "Ve~! Lovi! Why'd you do that? You could have hit Mattie!"

"That was the point, _idiota_!" Matthew and Alfred turned to see the second Vargas brother stroll towards them, gun still in hand, "I saw some bastard attacking you so I shot."

Feli smiled serenely at his irate twin, "Ve~, Lovi's so nice~! But I can protect myself—"

"Tch. When you want to. Don't you keep that stupid white flag on you?"

"Ve! Of course! Don't you have yours?"

Lovino reddened, "I—!"

He as interrupted by a voice in the hallway, "Loviiiiii~!" Soon, a tan, lean, green eyed brunette was at the doorway trying to catch his breath. "Lovi! I heard a shot…" His gaze took in the room. Lovino was holding his gun and Feli his sabre. A bit further away Matthew was standing by his brother, another sabre at his feet and a cut along his hand. The North American twins were wearing identical what-the-fuck-is-going-on expressions. Antonio smiled at them, "_Hola_! I'm going to assume you're Alfred~ Mattie's told me much about you!" Alfred waved meekly back at the bubbly Spaniard. He shifted his gaze to his Canadian colleague, "He didn't hit you, did he?"

"His fucking _clone_ saw me and tackled him to the fucking ground like _un demone_!" Lovi sounded angry.

Antonio kept smiling, "Good. Lovi~ I don't think you want to kill Mattie~."

Lovino was still very red, "Of course not, you bastard! It was more instinct than anything." He stopped, realisation hitting him, "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TWO DOING DOWN HERE?"

"Lovi, calm down, ve~! I invited them!"

"_Che palle_, _perché_?" He'd accidentally slipped into Italian.

Feli looked a little downcast, "_Mi piace lottare con Mattie. E non dovevano tornare a casa più tardi._"

Lovi reddened more, but a grinning Spaniard stepped in, "_Volevamo passare un po 'di tempo da solo_ ~!"

"_Chiudi il becco bastard_o!" He glared at the North American twins, "_La prossima volta che mi dicono. Non farlo di nuovo!_"

Feliciano grinned happily, "_Si_!"

"_A proposito, può capire il bastardo hamburger italiani_?"

Mattie answered, "No."

Lovino grinned, "Excellent," He then proceeded to curse out the American, his face, his mom, his sexual orientation, his appearance, his education, and his origins to high hell in the most polite tones Matthew had ever heard that Italian use. He broke down in laughter and had to support himself against the table. Antonio covered Feliciano's ears, although it was rather unnecessary. Alfred, completely lost, stood there and smiled until the insanity subsided.

~X~

"Go sit on the couch, I'll bandage your hand."

Matthew sighed, Alfred had been unnaturally quiet during the drive home and Mattie knew he was fretting, "Alfred, I…"

"Matthew, sit down."

Purple eyes widened, he did as he was told. Alfred _never_ used his full name. The American went to the bathroom and returned with the first-aid kit. His face was serious as he sat beside his broher to look at his hand. The cut wasn't too deep but it was wide, neatly slicing the smooth, pale skin on the back on his hand.

His hands were gentle as he disinfected it and began to wrap it lightly in gauze, "I want to go to work with you tomorrow."

"Eh?" Mattie had been watching his brother work intently.

"I want to go to work with you tomorrow." He remained focused on his work. His voice was calm and serious. Matt was kind of freaked out.

"I… uh… don't know if they'd let me."

Alfred finished with the hand and blue eyes met purple. Matthew never realised how blue his brother's eyes were.

"Well, they're just going to have to get over it. Matt, I had _no idea_ Feli could even _think_ of doing that. Then Lovino tried to _kill_ you…"

"Not on purpose—"

"Who knows what else you're around! I don't trust these people yet. I just want to meet them, just to be sure," he smiled slightly, "I'm the hero! I need to make sure you're safe!"

Matthew quirked and eyebrow, "you just saw me fence with the grandson of the Italian Mafia."

Alfred's smile grew, "Humour me." He paused, "Hey! Where did you learn to do that anyway?"

Matthew chuckled, "Alright, you can come. But I _won't_ get in trouble because of your presence."

"Yes!"

"Now get some sleep, we're getting up early."

"What?"

* * *

><p>WHAT IS THIS! Another chapter! I say!<p>

Had to.

Well, I was feeling guilty that I kind of, sort of, maybe slightly rubbed it in that I was leaving next Sunday. So I added another chapter!

BUT I'm NOT going to translate the Italian. Because I have no soul. Mwahahahaha! And I'm lazy. (Why did I put so much Italian in? The only words of Italian I know are _Si_ and _Che palle_. *shot*).


	5. Chapter 5

"How the hell do you do this every morning?"

"Shut the fuck up, hoser."

Matthew and Alfred were both gripping cups of coffee and looked like they were ready to gut the next person who spoke to them with rusty spoons.

They weren't morning people.

It's a good thing they didn't _have_ any rusty spoons or Gilbert would be no more, "Hey Mattie! What's up!" Alfred scowled as the albino leapt upon him. Matthew, for once thankful for his partial invisibility, slunk away to his office.

A few hours later, when Mattie was in a slightly more sociable mood, he noticed Alfred had yet to find him. He was washed in an uneasy feeling (what if Francis had found him?)

He had every reason to be worried.

It didn't take him long to find his brother. He just had to follow the sound of loud, obnoxious laughter. He was lead to a conference room that was rarely used for conferences. Basically, it was taken over by the Trio, so Mattie tries to avoid it. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door.

Shockingly, no one was naked yet. As senior agents of each country, they were encouraged to wear something native to the country. Considering modern day dress is not that different from each other, many just wore dress slacks and a shirt. Matthew had his Canadian flag sweatshirt with him though. Francis often had his shirt unbuttoned (if not removed), Antonio wore jeans and a casual white button down shirt, and Gilbert in jeans and a T-shirt. Together, the latter three were fearfully known as the Bad Friends Trio. Sometimes the Danish guy, Mathias, would join them or the (South) Korean rep. but the nucleus three were permanent.

Alfred turned when Mattie came in, "Hey! Sorry, these guys kinda kidnapped me for a while."

Matthew smirked, "I thought you were here to watch everyone."

"I was! I was spying for a good hour!"

The Canadian sighed. He knew his brother would get along with Gilbert and Tonio, but he was shocked that he got along with Francis so well considering the whole Arthur thing. He probably didn't realise it yet. _I'll just keep that little tid bit to myself_.

"_Mon diu_! You should see Arthur spy. I swear he takes lessons from Kiku. _Il est effrayant!"_

His two friends laughed boisterously. But Mattie watched as Alfred froze, looking like a ton of bricks had just been dumped on his head. With a blank face he got up and moved to the Frenchman, only noticed by his brother. Mattie himself was torn. He decided to watch for a time.

In one fell swoop, Alfred punched Francis in the face and out of the chair. The other two stopped their laughter and stared at their cursing, bleeding French friend for a moment. Alfred left the room nonchalantly. After another quick debate with himself, Matthew reasoned that his brother as still mad (aka. Dangerous). He followed the other blonde.

They walked together in silence for a moment. Gradually, Matthew managed to lead the quiet American to his office. When they were inside, Matt shut the door and sank down onto the couch. Alfred taking one of the chairs in front of the desk. The only thing visibly unique about the room was the vibrant Canadian flag string over the desk. Other then that, though, the office was neat and plain. The couch was new though.

And there have been several attempts to find the stash of maple syrup everyone knew he had hidden.

"Alfred, that was rather unnecessary."

"I know."

"It's not Francis' fault."

"I know."

"You got along with him fine before he said something."

"I know."

"You should probably—"

"Apologise? I know. Look it won't happen again. It just kind of took me by surprise is all. I got… emotional."

Matthew nodded, "You want to go home?"

"Nah, you wouldn't have a ride. Besides, I should talk to Francis later."

"…If you wanted to learn all the dirty little secrets, you could have just asked."

The smugness in his brother's voice caused Alfred to smile a little, "Oh?"

Mattie nodded again, "Being unnoticeable has its perks," Alfred opened his mouth to defend his brother but he had already began, "Let's start with Francis. He's actually never raped anyone before."

Alfred knitted his eyebrows, "Wait, what?"

Matthew flapped his hand, "If you knew him better you would _know_. You know about the Vargas twins. The Beilshmidt brothers, Gilbert and Ludwig, have both been in the military for a good time. If you're willing to believe the rumours, then they may still be working there. You can see it more in Ludwig, but Gilbert has one of the best strategical minds of the 21st century. Many of us think he still works there…"

"Awesome."

"Yes, he thinks so. Oh, and their father's a Nazi. Quite literally. He still lives in Germany, but luckily they avoided his influence."

"Damn. And Antonio?"

Matthew shrugged, "Born a tomato farmer, he's mildly obsessed with them. _We_ think he's slightly schizophrenic. He'll laps into random fits of rage slash possessiveness depending on what you say. Most of the time he's chill though. And I'm going to assume you know about Ivan and Yao…"

"Actually, we never spoke much. And I know nearly nothing about Yao…"

"Ah, well, Ivan is said to have killed several people with the pipe that always with him. And Yao is the owner of a shop in China town and is _obviously_ the descendant of a Chinese Emperor. He also knows over 100 ways to kill you just by poking you. You know Natalia too, the Belarusian rep. She's passionately in love with her brother. Don't cross her."

Alfred nodded, "Yeah, she's a freak. So is that-?"

"No, sadly. Yao has a ton of cousins, several of whom work here. But he has a younger brother who represents Japan. No one knows how that worked. He's also a ninja, he likes to creep on the gay couples here."

"…Gay couples."

"I'll get to that later. Kiku also has a kantana in his office. He hangs out with Elizabeta, Hungary's rep., don't even talk to her unless you're ready to be paired up. She's married to the musician Roderich, you probably don't know him. Then there's the Nordic countries, they always hang together. Berwald, Sweden, is the scary one you may see around. Like Ivan, but more intense all the time. Once you get past his face he's a pretty nice guy. He's married to the Fin, Tino. Tino's his wife. It's actually really funny to see how soft Berwald gets. Mathais is a friend of Tino's but Berwald's sworn enemy. He also owns a battle axe that matches Antonio's. Oh, did I forget to say that? Oh well. Mathis is crushing hard over the Norwegian rep. , Oslo. He practices magic, but I'm not sure if he has emotions. Vash—"

"Alright! I get it! You're all clinically insane!"

Matthew grinned, "You get used to it."

"And me?"

Matthew looked at him quizzically, "Hmm?"

Alfred seemed to smile but his eyes held something deeper, it kind of unnerved Matthew. Sometimes he forgot how intelligent his brother was, "What do you know about me?"

This was a test, Matthew could feel it, but Alfred's face held only curiosity, but there was something hidden and Mattie couldn't read it, "I—"

He was interrupted by his door being kicked open. Matthew and Alfred turned to see a fuming Frenchman with tissues in his nostrils. He stomped into the room, cursing colourfully in French, being closely followed by Gilbert and Antonio. Matthew knew Francis wouldn't start a fistfight so he stepped back to observe.

Alfred was rather shocked. He held up his hands in surrender and began to stammer, "Hey…uh… I… er…"

"You hit me in my face you-!"

"I'm sorry! It won't happen again! I was taken by surprise when you brought up…"

Francis stilled for a moment, he narrowed his eyes, "Ah, I see."

"It's all good now! Dude, it's alright. How 'bout I get you guys drinks later?"

Matthew's eyes widened and he frantically motioned for Alfred to stop, but it was too late. Gilbert jumped on the offer, "Hell yeah! Apology accepted! Stay here after work, we'll show you where to go!" Gilbert dragged a semi-stunned Francis out with him.

Alfred looked at his brother. Matthew sighted, "Hope you have a deep wallet and a strong liver, eh." He smiled when the American groaned.

* * *

><p>Happy Sunday!<p>

One thing I feel I should explain. Norway, I don't think, has a human name. So, mooching off of an idea I saw elsewhere, I used Norway's capital city as his name; Oslo.  
>(Person who's idea I stole: Thank you and forgive me!)<p>

Enjoy!

**Edit:** Thank you Zuma12121 for alerting me to the formatting issue. If I recall, facebook didn't like me this particular day. *shot*


	6. Chapter 6

_Has Alfred only been here for three nights? The house seems so much quieter…_ Matthew sighed as he hung up his jacket on the pegs beside the front door. _Well, at least I can clean up in here a bit._ His living room was still a mess from the hockey game, Alfred said he'd cleaned it but it looked like he had other things to do.

As he grabbed a trash bag and started to pick up the garbage he let his mind wander._Being Alfred's unnoticeable brother has its perks. It's good _I _don't get in trouble for things _he _does. It's really weird though. People who haven't even met Alfred yet have confused me for him. Hell, we're identical! How does he do it? At first glance he's just a loud and obnoxious American. Perhaps it's that aura of intelligence he has that fascinates people. The hoser's too smart for his own good. And yet he lacks common sense, it's quite incredible. Or maybe it's just his reputation that precedes him. He's not a playboy exactly, he's just very unlucky and again with the common sense… I know I shouldn't, but I can't help but hate that Arthur guy a bit. He was practically dating Francis while he was still with Alfred. Maybe he'll actually manage to remain single for a while…_

A crash snapped Matthew from his musings. He looked into the bag and realised he'd dropped a glass inside the bag and it had shattered. Well, at least it was in the bag. He focused a bit more and picked up the final few pieces of trash before taking it down with the rest of the garbage. When he returned he grabbed his ice tea and went to watch TV. The screen flicked on to the news and he didn't bother flipping it.

After a bit of horribly depressing news he muted it. Then he glanced at the clock, 9:58. He liked his job and he didn't have anywhere else to go so he'd stayed late today. Not like anyone was waiting for him…

~X~

A loud bang jolted Matt, slightly spilling lukewarm tea, "Mattie!~" Oh boy, Alfred's drunk.

Matt got up and glanced at the clock. 2:39. He must have drifted off, "Hello Alfred. Sounds like you had a good time." He turned to his brother.

Alfred was leaning on his side against the wall of the small hall that lead to the sitting room. From the changing hues of the television light, Matt could see his hair was more mussed up than usual and his face was deeply flushed from the alcohol. But, contrary to the crazed/too happy smile Matthew expected, Alfred was smiling softly at him, "'ey Matt."

Immediately Matthew was put on his guard, "Yes Alfred, hello. Do you need help?"

"Wi' What? 'ey Matt, why duh people think 'm you?"

The question put the Canadian off slightly considering those were his exact thoughts but a few hours before, "I guess because we're twins…"

"Not r'lly. Prob'ly jus' f'rternl."

His slurred words made it difficult for Matthew to pick up exactly what he was saying, "No, Al, I think we're identical," he took a cautious step to his brother, "Al, you should probably lie down before…" Alfred bolted (tripped, stumbled, depends on your perspective) to the kitchen. Mathew cringed when he heard the vomit hit the sink but was rather impressed that he'd make it there at all. He followed his brother, who was now leaning heavily against the counter, ripped off a paper towel and handed it to him, "Feel better?"

"Kinda," he croaked. He accepted the paper towel gratefully and wiped his mouth before turning on the sink. He took his time with rinsing it out and Matthew waited off to the side patiently. Eventually he shut the spigot off and turned unsteadily on his feet to look at his brother, "But we r'lly don'. We may be blon' but yers is lighter 'n longer. Yer face is roun'er 'n yer eyes 'r purple. Not like Ivan-pur'le, but perty pur'le, ya know?" He paused a moment and swayed as Mattie blinked a few times, "I r'lly love yer eyes…"

His knees gave way and he crumpled to the floor. If it wasn't for Matthew's fencer's reflexes he wouldn't have been able to catch his brother before his head smashed onto the tiles. As it was, it was a close call. He slowly sank beside Alfred and carefully placed his head and shoulders on his lap. Giving him a once-over, he saw Alfred was fine, just passed out. "You're a real idiot, you know that?" He received a half-hearted snore in response. Matthew smiled fondly at his brother. For most of his life he'd been pretty much friendless thanks to his chronic unnoticeability. He played mostly by himself and read most of the time in elementary school. It was in his middle school years when he received a call from a guy claiming to be his half brother and turned his outlook around. But even then they didn't really meet until their mother's funeral. It's quite surprising, due to their differences, how well they got along.

Absentmindedly, Matt pulled his fingers through his brother's surprisingly soft hair and studied him. Alfred may have been right. His face was slightly sharper, much more masculine, than his own. Actually, everything about him seemed slightly more masculine. He had a bit more of a football build than his own lithe fencer's. He straightened the glasses on his brother's face. Their eyes were the biggest giveaway; Alfred's were a remarkable sapphire blue while his own were an odd purple-blue iridescent mix. His fingertips grazed his brother's features as he thought. He thought of their biological father, whom only Matthew had met about three times. From his memory, he wasn't very kind. He thought of his mother. She was always single but always looking. Countless men's faces flashed in his memory, the longest only lasting about a year. The isolation broke his mother, in later years he came to resent her for that. There were times when even she, too, forgot his existence.

To Matthew's utter delight, Alfred never seemed to. Granted, there were times when other things were on his mind and they didn't talk as much, but he never actually forgot _who_ he was. And, while he was determined to never admit it to anyone (even himself) he adored his brother. Not just for that, but for everything. His brother was always something he could never seem to be; loved.

Matthew was slowly drawn from his thoughts when he saw droplets of water on Alfred's face. He quickly wiped them away before moving to lift his brother bridal style. While it wasn't easy, Matt was finally able to carry his brother to his room. He removed his glasses and shoes before he started to leave. He paused halfway out of the room. He turned on his heel and went back to his brother. For a moment he paused, before stooping to kiss his forehead. _Thanks._ Then he left and quietly shut the door behind him.


	7. Chapter 7

3

Brothers-Ch. 7

Alfred awoke the next morning to light stabbing his eyes and an axe attempting to split open his cranium.

He groaned and pulled the pillow over his head. Pillow, thus meaning he was in a bed. He recognised where he was by the smell of the sheets, and if he _was_ in another bed finding out could wait. He burrowed deeper into the mattress but the pain prevented him from falling asleep again. He audibly groaned, sat up, and cracked his eyelids open a hair. He saw nothing but a light blur so he blinked several times before bringing the (luckily, familiar) room into relative focus. The room remained fuzzy, he realised, due to a lack of glasses. Through the hangover he managed to find his glasses. They were sitting atop a pile of clothes on the nightstand.

Taking his brother's hint, he grabbed the clothes and took a much needed shower (Mattie also left the aspirin out from yesterday so he helped himself to those as well). When he got out he went to the kitchen for food when he found a note on the table.

_Al,_

_I just went in to work and won't be home until at least 5. Don't burn the place down. Check out the town, maybe Feli can show you around._

_-Matt_

Alfred looked at the clock on the microwave. 11:49. Not bad. Maybe he'll take Matt up on that offer.

~X~

"_Ciao_ Alfredo! Ve~ how are you doing? Where's Mattie? Ludwig told me you were out drinking with Gilbert last night. Are you okay? You came during a quieter time so I can talk…"

"Feliciano, please…"

The Italian's eyes lit up, "Ve~! Of course1 I have just the thing!" He lightly dragged the blonde to a small table in the shade of the over hang before rushing inside.

Alfred shook his head lightly, "Does that guy really work with the mafia?" He sat comfortably and observed. Matthew lived in a small apartment complex in a small town. Even thought it's a fair drive to the ITTCHQ in the next city over, but Matthew never liked being around too many people. Not many know this, but Matt actually has a small cabin by a lake (whose name Alfred could never pronounce) further up in the mountains. Even Alfred's never seen it.

The little Italian restaurant was a good way across town, but close enough to walk. It was just starting to cool down; the weather was telling people that fall was here. He'd started to wear his bomber jacket frequently now. The turning of the leaves hasn't happened yet, but they expect it within the week or beginning of the next. But for now the trees beside the old houses were only browning. The town actually reminded him of the tiny towns he's seen in Pennsylvania. It wasn't America, but he really liked it here.

"Ve! Pasta!" Alfred was jolted back to reality by the loud, joyous voice of Feliciano, "Pasta makes everything better!" Alfred smiled as he settled down to eat the heaping plates of pasta covered in red sauces and smelling of tomatoes and garlic.

As he began eating Feli took the seat across from him smiling happily, "Did Gilbert drink you under the table?" Alfred paused in shovelling food into his face, contemplating whether or not to argue, but nodded. Feliciano chuckled pleasantly, "You'll learn who you should and shouldn't drink with soon enough. Ve~! By the way, you should watch out for Mattie. He picked up some tips when he was dating Gilbert. You wouldn't stand a chance~."

Alfred swallowed his mouthful in a hard lump, "Wait, Matt dated Gilbert?"

Carmel eyes widened, "Ve~ _Si_. It was last year sometime, the relationship lasted for a few months. They were the big thing for a while; ve~ they were cute! Eventually, though, they started to, how do you say? Rubbing each other the wrong way. It was mutually agreed that they should break up, although I could tell Mattie took it hard. They're still friends now though, which is good~."

While Feliciano chatted Alfred had slowed his eating until his fork now firmly rested on his plate. Feli noticed and paused in his babbling to look quizzically at the blonde. "He never told me," a strange, foreign feeling rose in the pit of his stomach, "I always assumed he was single."

"Ve, there seems to be several things he's never told you," the Vargas looked at him with innocent brown eyes.

Alfred stared at his food, "Yeah, it seems so."

Feliciano continued to watch him for a while, "You know, Mattie is his own person, he doesn't have to tell you everything," Alfred fiddled with his fork. Feliciano's eyes shone sympathy, "But you did."

"He's my brother. I thought that's what they did."

"Ve~ You're late to the brother program. They don't tell you everything. Actually, they might intentionally keep things from you, sometimes for mean reasons," he smiled, "But they're _family_ so you have to love them, ve~."

"But what if we wouldn't have been family?"

"_Che__cosa?_Ve, what do you mean?"

The words had just slipped out, they even surprised Alfred. But now that they were out they got him thinking. For a while now he's been pondering his and Matthew's relationship. He'd only first met his twin when they were 20. Up until then they had just spoken or via email. When he _had_ seen his brother, being himself, he immediately picked out all the differences in their appearances. Recently he's started to do that again, not just with appearances but with personality. Matthew is quieter and secretive, but passionate. He likes to keep to himself but is very loyal to his friends. The list goes on.

They were really two very different people. That feeling in his stomach moved to his chest. It reminded him of something…

"Alfred?"

"Huh?" He looked up to meet the Italian's worried gaze. He must have fazed out for a while, "Oh! Nothing. Hey I'm fine!" He stuffed some of the cooling pasta into his mouth, chewed, and gave a very good attempt as swallowing. It went down like a bowling ball, doing nothing to help the odd feeling in his chest, "Its awesome Feli, thanks! I really should be going though," he pulled out his phone and pretended to look at the time, "Yeah, I have… things. Hey! I'll catch ya later!" He stood and walked away in a random direction.

Feliciano remained seated at the table for a while, curious eyes following the American until he rounded a corner. His face was ponderous, eventually it became resolute. He stood and gathered the dishes before re-entering his café.

~x~X~x~


	8. Chapter 8

Matthew sipped his maple syrup-laced coffee as he entered the building. He moved smoothly through the halls and into his office, draped his jacket on the back of his chair, and sat down. It wasn't until he finished his coffee and was halfway through his stack of papers when he realised how quiet it was. It was almost unnaturally quiet. There were no loud voices, no boisterous laughter, no claims of awesome or vital regions, no cursing in Italian, no rolling of chairs all over the floor, no sounds of breaking items, nothing.

Something had happened to the BFT.

Matthew, slightly unnerved by the silence but understanding, stood and moved to their club house conference room. When he got there he was greeted with the sigh of Francis and Antonio clutching each other while sleeping on the table. He paused to shake his head before shifting to the Prussian in the corner. Gilbert's eyes were slightly bloodshot and he was munching on a piece of dry toast, giving crumbs of it to Gilbird. He was cross-legged on the floor with the small chick on his knee. He smiled wryly at the albino, "Have a fun night?" He might have said it a bit louder than was necessary.

It achieved his desired effect, "Scheiße," Gilbert jumped and dropped the toast. Gilbird hopped up and fluttered to the toast and began pecking it. His master glared at the Canadian, "That was so unawesome."

Matthew shrugged, "Just as much as you are. Have a fun night?"

"I am so much more awesome than you! And yes, yes I did," he grinned, "Alfred got trashed first. Keskeskes! That guy has no secrets when he's drunk."

"Oh?" Matthew sat in a wheelie chair. How much had Al let on? "Do tell eh?"

Gilbert eyed him, "Why? Don't you think your brother told you everything?"

"Everyone has their secrets."

Gilbert stared at the Canadian for a moment, "You didn't tell him everything?" Matt raised an eyebrow, "Cold, man. And you wonder why I can't trust you." The eyebrow went higher, "Well, I wouldn't have told you all that if I'd know how you were. So I won't tell you about your brother."

Matthew quickly calculated Gilbert's character in his head. Eventually, "Fine. I was just curious."

He was just about to exit when Gilbert called him back, "Hey, what about a trade?"

Matthew turned to stare at his ex, "You've managed to weasel everything out of me, what more do you need to know?"

"Just some gossip, I know you've got some good stuff."

Matt sighed before retaking his seat. There was a snort from the couple on the table. "Fine. Matthias is sleeping with Oslo."

Gilbert had started to speak at the same time, "It doesn't have to be too…" he stared wide-eyed, "What!"

Matthew nodded, "And Alfred?"

"_Was?_ Oh, yeah. He was complaining about Arthur with Francis and then he cursed Francis out. Uh… Oh, he said some weird things about you."

"Can you remember?" Matthew was hit, for a moment with the curiosity of why he cared so much about his brother's opinion of him.

"Yeah, actually, he was saying some weird shit—oh! I caught about half of it on video for blackmail!" He pulled out his phone and spoke at the same time, "I think it was Francis who brought you up, but I don't remember exactly. Whatever it was set him off. It stared off with your pancakes, which are awesome. Then he got into your support when he first lost Arthur, then hockey, that turned into him complaining about how you're always getting confused for him. That's where my awesome skills come in!"

He shoved his phone to a half an inch from Matt's face. After flinching he took the phone and pressed the play button.

There was a blast of loud noise, some bar goers and some of the band. The image blurred until it came to rest looking up at Alfred. Gilbert must have set it on the table. "…no sense. His eyes 'r purple. Not like Ivan purple, but like… like… sunset purple. His eyes 'r beau'ful man, you don' even know." He paused for a gulp of beer, "I mean, if _I__'__m_ awesum, then Matt's… uh… _twice_ as awesum as me! Damn man, 'e even took meh in aft'r Arthur…" Suddenly his eyes filled with tears and he slammed his head onto the table (making the phone jump) and wailed. _Who __knew __he __was __one __of __those __drunks_? "Yuh don' even know wha' he's done fer me! No one's 'ver been tha' nice tuh me! Not even my dad. 'e was alw'ys mopin'" He hiccupped. There were recognisable giggles in the background.

Alfred continued to sob and hiccup into the counter top when the Frenchman spoke outside the view of the camera, "You must be very close to your brother, _non_?"

Alfred's head turned so that now it was on its side, looking at the speaker through bleary eyes, "Guess so. Never r'lly saw each other til her fun'rel. But we talk. An' he lets meh stay a' his place when I need. He doesn' seem tuh min' when I get annoyin'" He paused, eyes focusing on something inward, "I love Mattie."

The Trio, evidently not being able to hold it in any longer, burst out laughing. Alfred blinked and refocused on the present and looked down to the floor. One (or more) of them must have fallen to the floor. He said nothing but took a few more sips of beer as he waited for them to finish. Gilbert spoke first, "Everyone loves your brother, man, even me."

Alfred didn't speak. Francis put his arm around his shoulders, "Unless, of course, you mean in another way…" Matt could mentally see Francis wiggling his eyebrows.

The American said nothing for a time. Eventually Gilbert said, "He's not gonna talk anymore." Right before he picked up the phone Matthew saw Alfred nod.

Gilbert took the phone back when the video ended, "Hm, I didn't remember that last part. Mattie, ya alright?"

The Canadian looked up from the wall he was staring at, "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks for showing me the vid."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm awesome, no need to yell," he hunkered back down in his corner as Matthew left.

He didn't let himself start thinking about what he just saw until he was safely back in his office. He leaned against the locked door and was he supposed to think? _Alfred had been acting rather strange lately. Not much… Maybe I'm just paranoid. We haven't seen each other in a while, could I have changed that much? I don't think so. That was probably all drunk talk, er… nod. He probably didn't mean it._ Matthew sighed as he pushed off from his door to his desk.

Then someone knocked on his door. He ground his teeth a moment before collecting himself and moving to the door. He was about halfway when a very French voice spoke, "M… uh… eh… oh! Matthew! Matthew! I need to talk to you!"

Oh boy. Before unlocking the door he asked, "About what?"

"Your brotherly problems."

"I have no 'brotherly problems'."

"I saw what Alfred said last night." His voice was calm, lacking the usual lewdness Matt was used to hearing in his voice.

Not knowing what else to do, he opened the door to the out-of-character Frenchman. He stepped inside, turned on his heel, and shut and locked the door before turning calmly to Matthew, who was making a mental note of all possible nearby weapons. "Now Matthew," he began, "I know Gilbert and Antonio were too dense to notice, but I saw Alfred nod." He leaned against the door, crossed his arms, and started expectantly at the Canadian, "_Qu'allez-vous faire à ce sujet?_"

Matthew blinked a moment, "What do you mean what am I going to do about it?"

He smiled, "_Mon __cher_, forget your French so soon?"

Matt rolled his eyes, "_Que voulez-vous dire ce que je vais faire à ce sujet?_"

"_Beaucoup mieux! Et je veux dire, ce qui va vous faire aimer votre frère pour vous?_"

Matthew paled slightly, "What are you talking about? And no, I won't speak in French! He was drunk, you should know he was drunk. Don't start talking about things like—"

"Things like what? You think I've never been drunk before, hmm? You don't think I can tell when someone is telling the truth when they drink? Especially on the topic of love. Matthew, you know that's quite easy."

"Getting a little defensive, aren't we?"

Francis flipped his hair, "You implied that I didn't know what I was talking about. That and your thickness frustrates me," he smirked at the Canadian, "You need to learn how to loosen up Matthew," he pushed off from the door.

Matthew took a step back and Francis regained that glint in his eyes, "Thickness? I'm quite sure my _brother_ isn't in love with me."

"Why not?" he began to slowly circle Matthew, much to his discomfort, "_L'amour __est __l'amour_, is it not? Besides, you and he both said you're completely different people. You haven't even seen each other until your twenties. You may be brothers in title, but not in deeds, actions, feelings…"

Matthew glared at the still circling Frenchman, "We're brothers by blood."

Francis chuckled, "_Oui_. But you're making excuses for yourself. Just—"

"_You__'__re _the one making excuses, pervert!"

"—like how they condemned homosexuality," Matthew reddened, "Don't let that—"

"Get out."

"Hmm?"

"You're done talking about Al and I. Fucking pervert, get out!"

Francis paused, looking at Matthew almost disappointedly before breaking out his smile. I couldn't seem to reach his eyes though. "_Bien__sûr, __Matthieu_.I apologise for offending you. Have a pleasant evening _chéri_!" When he left his smile slipped away and was replaced with a sad, worried expression. He went back to the conference room to talk to the other two.

* * *

><p>GAH! I'm sorry this is so late! Fanfiction was acting weird and I had to change things but I didn't have time-! *shot*<p>

Bad Midnite, bad! No excuses.

Whatever. Here it is. Of course, there's another after this. Once again, I apologise.


	9. Chapter 9

_What __the __fuck __was __Francis __talking __about!_ Matthew sat at his desk, staring at the wood grain, frustrated as hell and ready to tear his hair out _Alfred's my brother, he couldn't love me like that; that's just wrong! He loves me of cour… well, I assume he loves me, but that nod… that nod… Gah! What am I thinking! What am I thinking? What _am _I so stuck on this? I know what I know, why am I defending myself? I'm not being defensive! And yet…_

_What __if __he __wasn__'__t __my __brother? _"But he is." _Just __pretend __that __he __isn__'__t. _"But he IS." _Just roll with it. How would I feel? Be honest with yourself._His heart sped slightly. _Honest._ He didn't notice his trembling hands as he pulled his phone from his pocket and clicked it on. The wallpaper was a picture that Alfred had sent while he was dating Arthur. Matthew had cropped it so that only his brother's beautiful beaming face was looking at him, "Al…" _No__…_

Matthew stilled, staring at the picture. He remained like that for several minutes before the phone's backlight turned off and the screen went dark. He stoically slid the device back into his pocket and returned to work on the papers.

~X~

The sidewalks were virtually empty, seeing as any lunch hour was now over. Alfred had himself buried in his bomber jacket. Alfred could recall the first time he got the jacket. He'd just graduated from high school and was packing for England…

_He was sitting on the lid of his suitcase, trying to get it shut. "Hey, you have a minute?" his father had walked in, holding a brown wrapped box._

"_Hold on, give me a hand." Together, they managed to get the bulging beast shut._

"_You know, you could have put some of that into another—"_

"_Nah. They keep jacking up the prices," he spotted the box, "Hey, what's that?"_

"_It's for you. I'm guessing it's from Matthew seeing as it's from Canada," he handed the package to a beaming Alfred._

_He grabbed it, "Ff-!" He glanced at his father, "Yeah! Way to go Mattie!"_

_He was looking around for a pair of scissors when his father spoke, "Maybe you should read the letter first."_

_"Letter?" He spotted the envelope that fell to the floor, "Letter!" he pounced on it and his father chuckled, "Man, I haven't actually written to Mattie in ages!" He ripped open the envelope and read the familiar handwriting._

_**Al!**_

_**Hey, congratulations! I got your ecard. You're such a nerd.**_

_**So, a little bird told me you were accepted to some big, fancy college in England. Who knew they had pity acceptances? Oh, and try not to be seduced by their accents so easily, eh?**_

_**Of course I'm just kidding!**_

_**I know you've explicitly told me not to but I got you something. I saw it in an old shop and I though it would fit you and your personality. The shop owner said it's from WWII, if you can handle it. Haven't seen another one like it yet. Hope you like it!**_

_**Congrats and good luck!**_

_**-Mattie**_

_**Ps. Call/Email me when you're in England, I'd love to hear about it!**_

"_From World War II? Maybe it's a gun!" Taking the proffered scissors from his father he tore open the paper and slit the box. Inside looked to be a pile of brownish material. He lifted it up and his eyes went wide._

_It was an old bomber jacket. The brown leather was soft in Alfred's hands. On the left breast was a white, circular patch with a large yellow star. Around the collar was soft fur that Alfred believed to be real, although he wasn't sure from what animal. He turned it around and, embroidered on the back, there was a large 50. "Matthew, you are too awesome."_

"World War II…" He's never really thought about it before. This jacket had fought for freedom; it was a piece of American history.

And it was a gift from Mattie.

Even then his brother knew him very well. Well, it wasn't like he held much back from Mattie, but still. And he was still fining out new things about his brother.

Like how he went out with Gilbert.

Mattie dated Gilbert. Mattie _dated _Gilbert. Mattie dated _Gilbert_. _Mattie_ dated _Gilbert_. No matter how he rolled it around it still didn't sound good.

Gilbert? Really? What did he see in that egotistical bastard? Maybe he had an albino fetish… or something…

Alfred sighted and leaned up against a tree. He had walked all through his flashback and now found himself in a small park area.

He had no problem with Gilbert. Actually, he really liked the guy. But, with Mattie? No. But then, who?

Mattie was strong, independent, quiet, courteous, funny, respectable; he'd need someone who matched those qualities but didn't conflict with them. Would opposites attract? Probably not.

_He gets along well with Feliciano, but I don't think they'd go out. Besides, I'm pretty sure Feli's stuck on that Ludwig guy._

_Wait, __why __am __I __thinking __about __this?_He sat down angrily on a bench. _Its __Mattie__'__s __life ,__he __can __do __what __he __wants__… __or __who __he __wants __I __guess._

Oddly, that thought just pissed him off more. _I just want what's best for him. I am his brother after all. I'm just trying to save him… from a bad relationship. Yeah, that's it! A hero saving another damsel in distress. … If Mattie ever heard me call him that he'd beat me with his hockey stick. Whatever. If this were Hollywood I would swoop in and save him, then he'd smile and…_

Alfred stilled and felt his face go warm with the mental image; an image he knew he should not have had of his brother. He sat there in silence for several minutes, lightly thinking about nothing, just feeling. Some of the emotions were… vaguely familiar, but for the most part they were foreign. One overlying feeling swamped them though. Fear.

After some time Alfred stood and made his way back to Matthew's apartment. _I __need __to __leave._

~X~

For once the conference room was quiet. Two sat in stunned silence while the third waited for their reactions. Gilbert spoke first, "Bu… Francis, you sure? I know you're into some kinky stuff but… it'd be like…" he trailed off turning unusually pink in the face.

"_Oui_, it is certainly odd, but not unheard of. They've known each other less than Tonio and his _tomates_ have."

The Spaniard smiled slightly, "Si, considering I've always known Lovi~. Oh and Francis, don't call Lovi a tomato in French again if you want to keep your balls."

Francis put up his hands in surrender, "Of course _mon __ami__,_ I'd forgotten."

Gilbert spoke again from where he still sat cross-legged in the corner, "But even if we… _think_… about Mattie, what about his brother? Most guys tend to freak out when they hear this kind of shit. Especially from brothers."

Francis was about to speak when his phone went off. He read the caller ID and smiled, "Give me a moment _s'il __vous __plaît_." He clicked on the phone and began to speak softly, turning his back on his friends.

The German and the Spaniard exchanged an apprehensive glance. Finally, Francis nodded, said good-bye, and hung up as he turned back to the other two, a peculiar grin in place, "_Mon __amis_, out little Italian spy," a sharp inhale from Antonio, "Feliciano," exhale, "Has just informed me that he told Alfred about you," he nodded to Gilbert, "And our Matthew. He walked away fairly upset."

"He should be honoured that the awesome me went out with his awesome brother! How could he possibly not—?"

"I don't think that was why he was upset. Isn't it obvious? The _petit __Américain_ is jealous."

More quiet in the room as the three pondered over the knowledge. Antonio spoke first, "_Bueno._. So what do we do about it?"

"Do something about it?" Gilbert looked shocked, "Toni, as an only child you probably don't understand, but let me tell you; brothers—"

"Gilbert, they said things like that about homosexuality too, I'll have you know. _L'amour __est __l'amour, __non_? So let it be. It's better than all this fighting all the time… but I digress." He sat down on the table beside Antonio and crossed his legs elegantly, "As to what we're going to do about it, nothing." He smiled so sweetly it was almost sickening, "Nothing that wouldn't happen naturally anyway. We may just, I don't know, push them along a touch."

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, causing the tree to jump. Without waiting for an answer it was flung open to reveal the Hungarian woman with a fisted hand on her waist and a look of revolution on her face. "I'm helping too." The three gaped at her, she continued, "Things have become stagnant around here, this kind of brotherly love is just what this place needs!" she smacked a fist into her palm and her eyes gleamed, "Brotherly love! Yes, I'll help. Besides, I have my doubts about whether they'd figure it out themselves or not. … Or your effectiveness. See you tomorrow!" She few out with a slam of the door.

The Trio sat in stunned silence a moment.

"… The bitch bugged the place, didn't she?"

* * *

><p>Hoho! Things are starting to come out! We also get that lovely little flashback 'n stuff.<p>

... Why do I insist on writing in languages I don't know? If any of this is wrong... grrr.  
>Anyway. Hope you like it.<p> 


	10. Chapter 10

Alfred went back to the apartment (taking the long way) and packed his things. Since there wasn't much and he was very learnt in the art of packing a bag, it shouldn't have taken him more than five minutes. As it was, he finally zipped up the bag a half an hour later.

He turned on his phone to check the time and instantly regretted it. He'd recently switched out a picture of Arthur to one of his brother. He was on a frozen lake somewhere, skates on, flushed in the face, and holding a hockey stick. His eyes were bright and he was smiling with an obvious case of helmet hair. _Mattie._

He clicked his phone off and stuffed it amongst his things. _Should I leave a note?_ Alfred went to the kitchen and grabbed a pen and began to scribble

_Mattie,_

_Yo bro, I noticed I've been taking up a lot of space and resources so I decided to finally leave you alone. I know, you're upset. But don't worry! I'll be—_

_Shit. Where am I gonna go?_ Alfred dropped his head to the table with a groan. _The only other person I know in Canada is Ivan. … And Feliciano now I guess. But that wouldn't work. Ok Alfred, calm down. You're just gonna have to chill here until I can fly back to the States and find a place. _He groaned as he pushed off the table and crumpled up the paper. _Well, there's a hockey game on… Or maybe Mattie can get football._ Really anything to get his mind off his brother. He tossed the crumpled sheet into the waste basket as he left the room.

~X~

Matthew left the office at six, a very reasonable hour for him. He met Ludwig on the way out and suggested that they stop at Feliciano's. The German reddened (even though it's been over six months now, the private man was still not used to people knowing about him and Feli) but agreed.

They arrived at PASTA a few minutes later. It was the dinner rush hour though so Feli was busy. The two just managed to grab a small table outside. They spoke pleasantly about work for a while, both having almost noting to do, unlike the poor Asian reps, then lapsed into a mutual silence.

It was broken by a high pitched voice, "Ve! Ludwig!" The poor German was then jumped upon by a flailing Italian. If the blonde hadn't been used to this already, Matthew knew his friend would have found himself sporting a new black eye.

Fortunately, he was used to it, "Feliciano, please don't jump on me in public. It's unseemly."

"Ve! Ludwig is so cold~!" He snuggled closer to the German man. Matthew cleared his throat nonchalantly. Ludwig turned red but the Italian looked up, "Mattie~!"

The Canadian was hugged, "Yes, hello Feli. Uh, shouldn't you get back to work?"

He gave a small gasp, "Yes! Of course!" He started off but turned back quickly, "What-?"

Ludwig answered for them, "Whatever you have on hand, Feli."

Feliciano blushed slightly at the familiar use of his name, "Ve~ O course Luddie!" Then, with dancer's grace, weaved through the crown back inside.

Matthew chuckled at the failing-to-be-nonchalant-red-faced German, "How'd that even happen?"

"Feliciano just likes to—"

"No, I meant how'd _you_ fall for _him_. You couldn't be more different, eh?" Matthew smiled pleasantly.

Ludwig sighed, "Honestly, I have no idea. I was coming home from the office, I had just moved here and my day… wasn't going well." Matthew grinned, picturing the irritable German. "I was just walking by this place when he jumped out in front of me, crying and waving a white napkin like a flag." Matthew nodded. For all for their fighting skills, the Italians were very skittish creatures. "I convinced him I wasn't going to hurt him, he apologised and dragged me in for food. I've been coming here ever since."

Mattie was going to say something but a plate heaping with pasta was placed in front of him. "Here you go, ve~!" He quickly kissed Ludwig's cheek before spinning back inside.

Matthew smiled before beginning to stuff his face with food. He swallowed, "How'd you know?"

Ludwig sighed, "Many people have asked me that. I don't know. It was like he was always there. As… cheesy as it sounds, I felt whole. I'm happy when I'm with him. Any faults I see in him just make him more endearing," his eyes glazed over and the shadow of a smile touched the corners of his mouth, "I wanted to protect him. Yet he has things I need. The only time I really remember being happy before that was when I was drinking. Father tried to teach us that the only ones we could love were ourselves and family. Ironically, it was our grandfather, who was in Germany during the War, who broke that. Still I never really understood what he meant until I met Feli." Coming back to himself he realised he'd been babbling and flushed, "Yes, well… er… are you okay?"

Matthew was staring at his co-worker wide eyed, "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

They ate their pasta with less zeal then before. The air was thick with thoughts and the sounds of chatter. The evening had gotten darker, the sun going down earlier these days.

Ludwig set his for on his now empty plate with a click, "So, how's Alfred?"

Matthew stilled, "Ah! That's right! He's still at the apartment!" He stood, "I should go and make sure the place is still in one piece."

He reached for his wallet but Ludwig stood and held up his hand, "No, I've got it. You go." Matthew nodded his thanks before running off. A few moments later Feliciano came out to stand beside him, "You saw that?" He nodded, "Seems like bruder and his friends may have been right."

"Ve, so what should we do?"

"What could we do? They're brothers."

"Ludwig, you know that if this is left go things are either going to turn out that way, or it's going to blow up in their faces," he looked up at the blonde, "Love or not, Alfred means the world to Mattie. He has since he got that first phone call. Ludwig, if something happens…" he looked down.

"You think he's still depressed?"

Feliciano nodded, "It's much more noticeable when he's alone in the quiet. He seems to have trouble concentrating and he acts listless. Ludwig, he looked so _happy_ when he was with Alfred. Just hearing his name seems to perk him up."

Ludwig gave a soft sigh and gripped his lover's hand, "If you think so."

Feli clung to his arm, "But what can we do?" Ludwig shook his head quietly.

~X~

Matthew returned to his apartment at around seven. As he opened the door he said, "I'm home!" He slipped off his coat to hang on the peg besides Alfred's bomber jacket. He smiled fondly, glad that Alfred liked his gift, "Sorry that I'm late… Al?"

He noticed the TV was one to a talk show but muted. When he didn't get a response he moved to the couch and looked down. Alfred was sleeping soundly, clutching a pillow and sprawled over his couch. Matthew smiled softly down at him, "Really Alfred? It's only seven. You're such a kid."

He reached down and stroked his brother's face. They really couldn't be more different. Before he could run his fingers through the short, gold hair he drew away. An expression of sadness and regret painted his face. "Why… were we born as brothers?" he asked softly. Then turned away to go to his room.

He never saw Alfred open his eyes, filled with sadness, "I wish I knew."

* * *

><p>Here it is! The scene of inspiration! http: paperplanecrash. deviantart. com/ art/APH- AmeCan- Brothers- Comic- 215618787


	11. Chapter 11

Matthew walked slowly back the hall towards his room, his mind curiously blank but spinning nonetheless. As he passed Alfred's room though he noticed the door was cracked. Now, usually his brother didn't care enough and just left his door wide open. Curious, Matt swung the door open and saw Alfred's bags sitting on his bed, packed.

Matthew felt his heart sink. He backed out of the room and left the door back where he found it. Quietly he moved to his own room. He stripped off his shoes and sweatshirt then slipped under the covers of his blankets and slipped off his glasses. It was only then did he allow every twisted and knotted feeling he's recently accumulated swamp him. In his usual quiet fashion, he allowed the tears to spill down his cheeks.

~X~

Alfred withdrew from his position of just peeking into his brother's room. With a silence his brother would have admired, the American moved back to his own room. He moved his bags from his bed to the floor before he too sat on its surface and attempted to untangle the knot of red string that he now seems to be entangled in.

~X~

Alfred found very little sleep that night. He was awoken from a light, fitful slumber by the sound of the front door closing. He glanced at the clock, his brother was leaving early. _So he felt it too._

Alfred sighed lightly to himself. He really knew no one else to ask. But…

Perhaps Arthur would know what to do.

~X~

Matthew had fallen into a nightmarish sleep. He got up early and quickly and silently went about preparing for work. He skipped breakfast.

Hoping he could busy himself in work, Matthew arrived to find there was very little for him to do. He'd finished much of it the day before. _Maybe Francis has something I could do. He never seems to get much done._

He'd just exited his office when he literally bumped into someone. But, while he nearly fell onto his ass the only other move the other made was to grip something in the pocket of her skirt. Immediately, Matthew went on the alert, "Natalia1 I apologise, I wasn't watching where I was going."

Her expression neutral, she nodded, "I was coming to get you. You have some forms to fill out. A couple of your tourists decided to get on the bad side of the Belarusian government."

Matthew nodded, "Yes, I heard about that. You would have thought they'd be American," he shook his head, "We do have a few of those types here." He began to follow her.

"Speaking of American," Matthew stiffened and noted that her hand was still in her pocket, "Is your brother still around?"

_Best not to lie to Nat._ "No. He's not here." Not exactly a lie. "Look Natalia, your brother and mine are over. I'm pretty sure the split was clean."

She was quiet a moment before she answered, "I only wished to thank him for not clinging to my brother. I know it's hard, I would have killed myself if he dumped me like that," Matthew wisely said nothing, "But if you could just carry my message to him, I have other things to focus upon."

As she was walking away Matthew blurted out, "Are you really in love with your brother?"

She stopped on a dime and spun around, indigo eyes blazing, "Are you questioning my love to my dear, beautiful brother?"

"I-In a manner of speaking, yes," she stepped towards him and Matthew saw a flash of metal. He quickly explained, "How? How can you tell? How would you know?"

Here eyes softened and whatever knife she was holding returned to its place in her pocket, "I was suspicious but—"

"Suspicious? Of what? There's nothing to be suspicious of. I was merely asking—"

"You love Alfred."

Finally hearing the works out loud he was stunned quiet, only to stammer, "What… I… who…?"

She moved back closer to him, her platinum hair shimmering behind her, "It's hard, and it hurts. Yes, it hurts like hell. Incest is forbidden now, isn't it? But, as that Francis would put it, love is love. I figured one had only about two options. One, confess. This is risky but would achieve the quickest, though not clearest, results. That's what I did. Ivan's still coming to terms with it.

"Or, option to, you get as far away from each other as possible," with a pang Matthew recalled the luggage, "This is the safest option, but it doesn't ease the feelings. I couldn't do it, even after brother rejected me the first time. That most surely would kill me. Every time he pushes me away is another cut, but it doesn't kill me. And brother doesn't want me dead, he said so. So I can't die."

She paused, thinking, "I guess there is a third option. You could do nothing. You can always do nothing. But not only is that the coward's way out, but it brings on excruciating drawn-out torture. Nothing is accomplished or decided and the tension would probably build up and eventually drive you apart anyway. No, you're smarter than that," she looked straight at Matthew. "It really is a curse and a blessing. But you can make of it what you will.

"… You really are intelligent. I have faith in the both of you. Papers are right on top of my desk." With that she turned and walked away.

Matthew stood in stunned silence. Mixed emotions still turned his stomach but now he realised he needed a plan of action, eve if just a vague one. He went in to sign the papers.

~X~

"Arthur Kirkland speak—"

"Hey Arthur! I—"

"Bloody hell Alfred! Haven't I told you to leave me alone already? And where are you calling me from? I don't recognise the number."

"Mattie's phone. Look, Artie, I—"

"Don't call me Artie! Who is Mattie? Did you have a falling out with—"

"Yes, Arthur, that's not the point, I—"

"Weren't you in Canada? What time is it there? Seven? You never get up this bloody early."

"Arthur—"

"If you're just here to pester me I _will_ get—"

"ARTHUR! Please. Is that position at the university still open?"

"Yes, why? You pissed him off, didn't you? I told you—"

"Arthur just listen to me! It's not Ivan; the break-up was clean. Look, I just… I need to get away from someone—I mean from here. Yes, I just really want to go back to London. Not to see you, I mean. I mean, I'd like to see you but not like that, you know…"

"Al, just tell me what's going on."

"… I fell in love with someone I shouldn't have."

"So you're running away? That's not like you Alfred. Who was it?"

"…"

"Was it a straight guy? Because you know—"

"No just a straight guy. Look, Arthur, could I crash at your place until I get set up? Then could you find a really freaking cheap motel thing by the school?"

"… Alfred, what are you running away from?"

"Can you do it?"

"Yes, but—"

"I'll be on the next flight to England."

"Alfred, that's not nearly enough time for me to do all that and you know it."

"… How about the end of the week?"

Arthur sighed and Alfred knew he'd won, "Fine. But you _will_ explain this to me when you get here."

"Ar—"

"As payment."

Damn. Arthur was always good at getting at least a little something out of any situation, "Fine. I'll call when I get the flight."

"Honestly, you needn't bother. Francis is coming this Friday. You could find a seat on his flight."

"Thank you so much Arthur."

"… The truth. That's all I need in return. It sounds like you need it too."

"Of course. I'll see you then."

"Good-bye." Alfred hung up, an unusual feeling of depression filling him. Sitting in the kitchen he went to a corner, curled into his knees, and wept.

* * *

><p>Oh, the drama!<br>Hey! My first time writing Belarus! Of course, someone needed to offer some incestual advise.  
>... She may not be the best person to listen to. But whatever.<p>

Drop a review!


	12. Chapter 12

Francis' cell phone suddenly started playing "I'm Sexy and I know it" very loudly. The Frenchman grinned to himself before setting down his pen (he had to do work too sometimes) and reached for his phone. "_Bonjour mon amour_," he purred into the phone, "_Avez-vous besoin de quelque chose_?"

"Cut it with the French, Frog."

"Oh Arthur, you wound—"

"Shut up. Look, Alfred asked to come to England to pick up that teaching job at the University."

"Alfred? Teaching? England?" So much was wrong with that sentence.

"Yes, Alfred. You've met him I assume?"

Francis rubbed his nose, "_Oui_."

"He was offered a teaching position here at the University. For all his idiocy the git's actually quiet brilliant in his field."

"But Arthur, that would mean he'd have to leave his brother."

"Who? What are you talking about?" Francis, shocked, remained quiet. "Anyway, he'll be on the same flight as you and may be staying at my place for a day or two until he finds somewhere to settle."

Francis bit his lip, "But, Arthur…"

"What?"

"… Did Alfred tell you _why _he was leaving?"

"Something about love, but that's not too surprising knowing the guy. He said he'd explain better when he got here."

So he was right. But that didn't make the situation any easier, "_Oui_, Arthur, I'll escort him over."

"… Are you alright? You're acting a bit odd."

"I was just wondering why _l'amour_ is so hard sometimes."

"What the hell? Francis, what do you know?"

"I'll see you this weekend, love. 'Bye."

"Fran-" He hung up. Arthur wasn't going to be pleased but Francis had other things to think of.

It's hard to say if anyone doesn't like Matthew. Although quiet, when one did talk to him they usually found that they like him. Francis had worked at the ITTC only about two years, maybe three, longer than the Canadian, but he too soon found himself rather fond of him. He should go…

No. If Alfred was going to tell Arthur about it maybe he'll finally come to terms with this. He'd have to use this to his advantage.

He sighed. _Why can't _l'amour_ be easier?_

~X~

Matthew delayed himself long enough, it was about 8:30 and he'd though it over long enough. And he knew what he had to do. It wasn't so much a decision so much as instinct; he wouldn't be able to handle it if Alfred left him. Not now, not after his realisation. _Just have to risk it I guess_.

He arrived home quickly, the late hour on a Wednesday kept traffic at bay. He entered his apartment with sweaty palms, "Alfred, you here?" _Might as well do this now._

When his brother didn't answer he looked around. It didn't take him long to find the American sitting curled up in the far corner of his kitchen, "Al?" The man was breathing heavily from sleep. Matthew hesitated just a moment before lightly shaking his brother, "Al, wake up. I need to talk to you."

Groggily he sat up, glasses askew and spotted with dried water. Matthew looked at them before taking them from his brother's face to the sink. He finished cleaning the lenses and slid them back on Alfred's face. The American's face was stony but flushed. "Alfred, why are you crying in a corner of my kitchen?"

The blush grew brighter, "I wasn't crying. And I'll leave your kitchen soon enough, don't worry."

Although he normally would laugh it off, something about the way he said the last line raised a red flag, "Yes. But I assume I can't keep you out of it forever, eh?"

Alfred stood up, Matthew following suit, "Now you can." _No_. "I'm leaving."

Suddenly he lost all ability to comprehend things, "What? Leaving?"

Alfred's face remained emotionless, "I took the job at the University in England." _England_. "Arthur's willing to take me in for a few days before I find my own place."

Matt could only stare at his brother for a moment, "But… why?"

Alfred moved away from his brother, turning his back to him, "I've imposed on you too long," Matt opened his mouth to speak but Alfred kept going, "And you know damn well I'm not just talking about this time. I've been dragging my sorry ass in and out of your place for years now. I'll finally leave you alone. Besides, I'm done with the pity."

"Al… I—" Alfred turned around and smiled at him. Tears sprang to Matthew's eyes. That wasn't his real smile. His real smile used to be easy, contagious, and able to light up a whole room. Someone stole his real smile, destroyed it.

This was real, "Al, I never… you can't! I-!"

"Mattie, I have to. My things are packed. To make this easier I'll say my good-byes now." Matthew stood there, shocked, as Alfred slowly, hesitantly, hugged him. _ He's going to try to go back to Arthur. I should have known. He would never… DAMNIT! I'm such an idiot!_ Letting the tears roll down his cheeks he griped his brother's shirt and wept.

~X~

Matthew could only watch numbly as his brother picked up his things, slipped on his jacket, and left the apartment with a wave, a false smile, and a hallow promise to call. Matthew only nodded.

After the front door shut he went back to the kitchen and resumed Alfred previous position. _Fucking idiot_.

~X~

"I'm not feeling very well this morning Francis, could you cover for me?"

Something about his voice worried Francis but he didn't speak of it, "Of course _mon cher_. Think you'll be able to make it tomorrow?"

"Probably not."

Dead. That's what his voice sounded like. Francis caught himself. Should he just tell the American idiot to turn around?

No. The guy was thicker than Tonio. He'd need to say it out loud for himself to actually believe it. He'd talk to Arthur. "Alright_, __mon doux_, I'll look over your little Canadian affairs for you~"

"Thanks Francis." Not a chuckle or groan, not eve the feeling of rolling eyes or a smart comeback. _Feli had said once…_

"Take care of yourself Matthew. I'll see you Monday."

"Sure. 'Bye." He hung up. Francis put his phone onto his desk He'd been quickly finishing some papers to leave to meet the other two when he got the call. Now he seemed content to sit and ponder a while.

~X~

The next few days came in foggy bursts for Matthew. He sat in the corner for a time. Then he found himself pacing the house. He fell asleep leaning against the front door and woke to find it about 11 in the morning. In a moment of clarity he called Francis to look over things while he was out for the rest of the week. Then he went to his bedroom, hid under the dark, concealing covers, and slept. He woke again when it was dark, sweating and curled in a small ball. In a daze he recalled getting up and showering. Then he fazed out for another few hours. To any other person this would have been very worrying but he was just glad of the ignorant moments. When lucidity smacked him again he was curled in a corner of the couch in a shirt that didn't smell like his own.

He wanted to fling the garment in frustration across the room, but instead he hugged it and buried his nose in the collar. The next day was off and on as well. At one point the clawing pain in his chest moved to his stomach so he ate some dry cereal.

It was about 3:30 on Friday when the call came in. He was roused from the gentle embraces of sleep, "Hello?" His voice cracked from it not being used or watered recently.

"Matthew. I'm just calling to let you know that I got enough done that you don't have to come in this weekend. … _Comment vous sentez-vous?_"

Not like he was going to anyway. It took him a little longer to translate the French than it normally would, "I'm fine." Yeah, grand as Atlantis, "Thanks."

"Well, I'm sending Feliciano over tomorrow to check up on you anyway."

Fuck. "Cool. I'll be glad to see him."

"Sure you're okay?"

"Yeah."

"… Want to speak to Alfred? He's leaving too."

_Fuck you Francis, I though you could read an atmosphere._ "No, just tell him… tell him…" What to tell a brother who doesn't love you? "Tell him good-bye."

There was silence on the other end of the line. Francis must be thinking. "Alright. I'll see you at work Monday." It wasn't a question. Francis kept hoping that if he kept setting dates Matthew wouldn't do anything rash.

"Yeah, hopefully. See you." He hung up. _Good-bye Alfred_. The sick feeling rose to his throat. He ran to the bathroom to vomit into the toilet.

~X~

Francis started at his phone. _Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea._ "Frenchie." Francis turned to look at Alfred. The American had been agitated as of late; agitated but quiet, as if he were worried he left something behind. "Who was that?"

"Matthew," interesting emotions flashed across blue eyes. Pain, guilt, and affection, among the top three.

"What'd he say?"

"Just good-bye. And that he'll miss you." Well, it was practically a given.

Francis watched Alfred's reaction with interest. The strained look lessened and was replaced with a type of grief. Then his shoulders squared with resignation that worried the Frenchman. "I'll miss him too."

* * *

><p>First update of the new year! Is it symbolic that it's a yaoi?<br>... Or incestual?  
>...Or overly dramatic?<p>

I certainly hope not.

I haven't put one of these recently so  
><span>Disclaimers:<span>  
>-Faulty spellinggrammar  
>-Oddly internet translated lines<br>-Drama  
>-Future incest<br>-Yaoi **Don't like don't read.**  
>-I do not own Hetalia. No matter how much I wish it to be so.<p>

Ummm...  
>Well. That's it.<p>

READ AND ENJOY.


	13. Chapter 13

Matthew spent the night sleeping on the bathroom floor. His sleep was not peaceful. He woke up screaming for his brother at about nine-thirty the next morning. _When was Feli going to get here again?_

As much as he wanted to break down he didn't allow himself to. _Feli'd know something's up_. He made himself get up and shower. He found a comfortable pair of jeans and a shirt. After he changed he moved to the couch to await his friend.

~X~

"This is going to be a long flight _vous petits ravageurs_, I hope you brought something to do. Alfred nodded as he slid into the window seat. Francis sat by the aisle. They'd flipped so that Francis could flirt/molest the flight attendants.

For the first hour or so they remained in their respective positions, Alfred staring out the window and Francis hitting on anything that went by. Eventually the Frenchman drifted off, his hand resting high on Alfred's thigh. The American didn't much notice. Instead he pulled down the trey and withdrew a crumpled piece of paper and a pen. At the top he labelled strong and deliberately

Why Mattie Wouldn't Need Me

I'm annoying.

~X~

It was about noon when there was a knock on the Canadian's door. He'd got up to answer it but Feliciano admitted himself, "Ve~ Mattie!~"

Matthew wasn't entirely prepared for the hug but he didn't push the Italian away, "Hey Feli. Francis tell you to come over?"

"_Si._ He said you were unwell," he drew back to study his friend's face with worried caramel eyes, "You do look pale. Go sit down, I'll make you something to eat."

"I'm not all that hungry Feli—"

"But you still need something. A simple pasta dish will fix you right up!" Matthew smiled slightly as Feli twittered to the kitchen.

~X~

I'm a loser.

~X~

Through the soft clatter of pans Feli spoke, "Ve~ Francis get to go to England! You know, I'd like to visit Germany with Ludwig. Or I could take him to Italy~ _Nonno_ said he'd want to meet him."

"Yeah, must be nice."

"Oh, you can come too Mattie~ _Nonno_ would like you!"

"I don't think I'm up for travelling yet Feli…"

~X~

I'm a dumbass.

~X~

"Well of course not _now_, ve~ Later, when you're better…"

_Will I get better? Sure I have to, I guess._

~X~

He deserves better.

~X~

_I wouldn't want to upset Al. … Would he be upset? He'd be inconvenienced anyway. He doesn't have time to be inconvenienced. He's going to England to start a new life. Maybe it'll be successful this time. If not… he'll go to Arthur, not me. Not anymore._

~X~

I love him.

~X~

_I didn't even get a chance… I never told him… Well, maybe it's for the best. He'd be repulsed anyway. At least he left on a neutral note…_

~X~

He's my brother.

~X~

"Ve? Mattie? Are you crying?"

~X~

He's my brother and I'm in love with him.

"Mattie."

* * *

><p>And things just keep getting more depressing. I've noticed these are becoming more like filler chapters than anything.<p>

Sorry.

Drop a review.


	14. Chapter 14

"Ve, Ludwig, I'm worried about Mattie." Feliciano spoke tearfully, but softly, into his phone. The Canadian had just fallen asleep, "Yesterday he starting crying and today he hardly ate anything!"

Ludwig sighed, "I know you're distressed but _bruder_ said that we're going to have to… trust… Francis." His voice did not scream trust and confidence.

Feli overlooked it, "I know, but isn't there something I can do now? He wasn't even this bad when he and Gilbert broke up."

The German man had to admit it, it was slightly discerning hearing that strong, steady… er… Matthew! Yeah, that he broke down. "Feli, Alfred was a constant in Matthew's life. He may not have told him everything but he was always there. It's like… loosing a foundation beam of a house."

"… Will he fall down?"

"I don't know. You tell me."

~X~

The two landed in London sore (and in Alfred's case, exhausted) at about four in the morning. Alfred wasn't really paying attention as the Frenchman's lead him into the subway and later into a cab. Arthur lived closer to the outskirts of London. He said he doesn't like the tourists.

Francis had just tapped the door when it was flung open by an irate Englishman. He was a little shorter than either Francis or Alfred and had blond hair that always seemed to look dishevelled. Green eyes were overshadowed by monstrous caterpillars—er, eyebrows. "Took you bloody long enough!" He looked at an unnaturally quiet Alfred, "What's…?"

Francis shook his head to quiet him, "He seems tired, let him sleep." Arthur nodded before leading the complacent American to his guest room. When he returned the Frog was already sipping some red wine, "_Mon amour_, now that we're alone—"

"Don't give me that, Frog. What's going on with Alfred?"

"_Je ne sais pas_." He sipped the wine.

"Like hell you don't!" He glared as the Frenchman twirled the glass between his fingers.

He set the glass down with a clink before looking dead at Arthur, making the shorter one flush somewhat, "_Mon amour_, I'm sure you know he is. He won't talk to me. But _you_ made him promise, and he trusts you. If anyone's going to get him to say anything it's going to be you."

Arthur became thoughtful and sank down beside Francis, "I think he's running away from something."

"Of course he is."

"Shut it. He wouldn't run from something that _really_ mattered but…" he sighted and ran a hand through his already shaggy hair. Francis subtly slipped his arm around his lover, "The git's never had much luck in love, has he?"

"_L'amour trouve tout le monde_. I recall a time when you didn't think you would truly find love."

"_Je sais_. But that's beside the point! I'm worried about Alfred."

"And I'm worried about _Mathieu_."

The caterpillars—er, he furrowed his eyebrows, "Who?"

Francis sighted, "Alfred's brother."

"He has a brother! Why-?"

"He probably told you, you just forget," Arthur flushed, "It's not just you _cher_, most people forget about him."

Arthur settled down into thought, "Why are you worried about him?"

"He has something to do with this, I know it."

Arthur nodded, "Fine, I'll ask him. But _you_ should be out of the house by then."

"_Moi? __Mais pourquoi__?"_

"Because if he didn't want to speak to you he won't talk while you're around. He may be an idiot but he's not stupid."

Francis let the confusion pass and opted to hug the worried Englishman closer, "_Quoi que vous voulez, mon amour__._"

~X~

Arthur set his hands on his hips as he looked at the lump under the covers that was Alfred. _I know he just got here but if he's staying here he's going to have to get used to the time difference. It's 11, that was plenty of time. _Automatically he moved to tug the American out by his ankles but stopped. _He's a guest now._ He sighed and moved to shake Alfred's shoulder, "Oi, it's time to get up." The younger man groaned and rolled over. He gritted his teeth, "Come on! Up! It's bloody eleven!" More groaning and more rolling. _Once more._ "I'm pouring the coffee out if you don't get up now." Nothing. _Fine._ He went to the end of the bed, flipped up the sheet, grabbed the American's ankles, and gave a great pull. It wasn't long until the American found himself on the floor in a heap of blankets.

With a yawn he shuffled after Arthur into the kitchen, "What's for breakfast?"

"You're going to have to wait an hour for lunch." Arthur was trying his hardest to remain civil, "If you wanted breakfast you should have woken up earlier."

"Actually, it's probably safer that I hadn't. Last time you made me breakfast I started bleeding from the nose."

"That was a coincidence!" Alfred calmly sipped the coffee, "It had nothing to do with my cooking!"

"Mmmhm."

"Oh shut it! It's still better than that grease you're always eating."

"Did you talk to the University?"

Arthur just caught the switch. He'd almost forgotten in the eerily familiar banter, "Oh, yes. They said they'd be thrilled to take you in."

Alfred nodded, "Computer and Internet tech?"

"Of course." Alfred grimaced, "I know it doesn't have all the freedom you'd like to have to fiddle around with your toys but—"

"It's a steady income. Yeah, you've said."

Arthur was quiet. Eventually he went to go sit across from Alfred. _He's avoiding eye contact._ "Are you going to keep your promise?"

"Hmm?"

"You were going to explain to me why you were so eager to leave Canada. You even left… uh… er… Matthew! You even left Matthew behind," the younger man stiffened, "So he does have something to do with this."

"…"

"Since when can't you tell me things? Even after—"

"Can I check something quick?"

Arthur hesitated, "Sure."

Alfred nodded and got up. He made to walk past Arthur who turned to watch him. At the last second he pivoted and quickly kissed the Englishman. The movement was too quick for Arthur to react properly.

It as barely a peck before Alfred pulled away, his face dark and upset. As he went to sink back into his seat Arthur sputtered, "What the bloody fuck! Alfred—I told you—We-!"

The American set his forehead on the table so his voice was slightly muffled, "Sorry. Just had to check."

"Check what?" Arthur was getting frustrated, "I thought I told you—"

"I know. Just wanted to check for myself," his voice was softer, Arthur calmed down, "Wanted to make sure I was as fucked up as I thought I was."

"Well, you are that, but I don't think it's the same way I'm thinking. Are you going to tell me?"

Alfred was quiet for a moment, "I needed a good job. While I was here I thought I'd make sure…"

"…You flew across the ocean for a job and to make sure you didn't love me anymore?" He nodded into the table. "So what does that have to do with… uh… er… "

"Mattie. My brother."

"Who I didn't know you had, by the way—"

Alfred shot up so fast his chair fell to the floor, "Of course you didn't. Even though I called him or emailed him at least three times a week. Even though I spoke about him on his birthday or Christmas. Who would remember quiet, amazing Mattie? People act like he doesn't even fucking exist! People I haven't even met before and he's known for _years_ overlook him. He's not fucking invisible! It's not about me—IT SHOULDN'T BE ABOUT ME! I'M FUCKING SICK AND TIRED OF MATTIE BEING THROWN ASIDE BY THE REST OF THE WORLD!"

Arthur stared wide eyed at the American, who was panting and clenching his fists so hard that his hands were white. Behind him he saw Francis begin to creep out of the room he'd been hiding in. "Alfred…"

"He's a better man than I could ever dream of becoming." It came out as a mumble so that Arthur barely caught it. But he did and something clicked. He'd only seen the American act similar to this once before, several years before, in _his _defence.

"You… you love Mattie."

The words being spoken by another finally broke him. He went nearly limp, his knees buckled and he fell back onto the floor. He could only nod as the first tears began to fall.

* * *

><p>Happy birthday to me! Now I'm old enough to read all the <em>good<em> yaoi, if ya know what I mean. Anywho, someone on my fanfiction account said that they'd like to see my translations (yeah, I've been lazy) so I'm gonna try to start doing that. Some of these Hetalia fans should know but meh. I used a translator so these may not be completely accurate. Forgive me.

**Bruder-** Brother  
><strong>Mon amour-<strong> My love.  
><strong>Je ne sais pas<strong>**.-**I don't know.  
><em><strong>L'amour trouve tout le monde.<strong>_ -Love finds everyone.  
><strong>Je sais.<strong> -I know.  
><strong>Cher- <strong>Dear  
><strong>Moi? Mais pourquoi<strong>**?- **Me? But why?  
><strong>Quoi que vous voulez, mon amour.<strong>**-**Whatever you want, my love.


	15. Chapter 15

Francis' fingers were trembling so hard he could hardly dial the important numbers. Eventually he did and a less-than-usually-sunny Italian voice picked up, "Feliciano Vargas. Amilio, if that's you, I told you—"

"_Non! Non! _Feli, _c'est François_!

"Francis, you know I can speak some French, but not when you're talking that fast, ve."

"Désolé. But Feli, Alfred was talking to Arthur—"

"So you're in England? How as the flight?"

"_Beaux_**.** But _ce n'est pas le point__!"_

"Francis, calm down."

There was silence on the other end as Feliciano assumed his French friend was attempting to compose himself. "Feli—"

"Yes?"

"Stop interrupting me!" the brunette grinned mischievously but was quiet, "Alfred confessed to Arthur."

The Italian's grin vanished and his heart sank, "Ve! But… didn't he… Wait, why are you so excited?"

"No, no, _non, nonnonnon_! He confessed to being in love with Mathieu!"

"Really? Ve, that's great!"

"What's great?"

Feliciano spun to see a confused Canadian in the doorway of the kitchen, in which he was standing, "And why are you still here? I told you to go home."

"Ve," His mind was spinning. He was always a horrible liar, "But Mattie's still sick!"

Matthew quirked an eyebrow, catching the trying-to hard, "Okay…" He nodded to the phone, "Who're you talking to?"

"Ludwig," he answered quickly.

Matthew sighed and ran a hand through his hair, "If you don't want to tell me—"

"I can't tell you!"

"—You don't have to…" He furrowed his eyebrows and glanced at the phone but let it go, "Alright. But you should probably be going back to the restaurant soon." He left.

Feli sighed and put the device back to his ear, "Sorry Francis."

"That's quite alright. I was just thinking. We can't do anything with an ocean in between them."

"We're doing something?"

"Of course! There's not enough _l'amour_ in the world! … There's also the fact that they're both absolutely miserable, _oui_?"

"_Si_, but….?"

"I know someone who would be more than willing to help, if you can put up with her."

"Her?"

"And her friends."

~X~

"Are you sure Feli's allowed in here?" Prussia asked from the corner of their usual conference room. Honestly, he didn't want to be there.

"If Matthew could bring in the American then surely Feli would be allowed," Ludwig's voice rumbled. He'd been suckered into this by the Italian clinging to his arm (not that he'd ever admit it). It was Monday and he had work to be done.

Also in the crowded room was Antonio (rubbing a bruised arm from where Romano punched him after he'd asked him if he wanted to help). There was also, oddly enough, the Japanese rep., Kiku, and his sister, Mai, who worked at a small manga shop not far away. They were attaching some device to the wall mounted TV. Kiku kept looking around as if someone else were supposed to be there.

Feliciano was babbling to himself and whoever happened to be in earshot, "—excited to get started! When do you think everyone will show up? We should have put a guard or Mattie may come in! Ve, who's that girl over by Kiku? They look like they're related. Ludwig, I'm so excited! I can finally help Mattie with something! When-?" Ludwig tuned him out and considered standing by his unusually quiet brother.

That idea was shattered when another body burst through the door. With an air of destination and determination, she took in the room before moving over to speak to the Asians. Ludwig felt his arm grow cold as the warm Italian skipped to hug Elizabetha.

After a few moment the TV burst into static. A few tweaks and the most abhorrent, hideous, terrifying thing Ludwig ever saw in his life came onto the screen.

"Ve~ Francis! How are you?" The German facepalmed.

"_Je suis bien_ Feli. Liz, you there?" The brunette waved, "Excellent! Oh, and I see you brought the other two." Kiku and Mai bowed respectfully, "… Why is Ludwig here?"

"I brought him! He's here to help~" Feli turned to the German, "Ve~ right, Luddie?"

Ludwig ignored the snickers, "_Ja_, Sure."

The Frenchman shrugged, but Elizabetha gave him a piercing stare. After a few moments Ludwig felt himself start to fidget. To fight it he took up a familiar at-ease stance. "So," the word was spoken sharply by the Hungarian woman, "You want to help?" Ludwig fought the instinct to answer with a shout and nodded. "Why?" She didn't wait for an answer, "For Feli? That's all fine and dandy but it's not good enough for me. You may like Matthew but you don't really _know_ him. And we all know how you feel about the present controversy."

Gilbert stupidly walked over beside his brother, "And how would you-?"

"BECAUSE I KNOW!" Gil snapped to attention like his brother had unknowingly done earlier. Elizabetha started pacing the floor in front of them, "While I am here I don't want to have to put up with doubts, disgust, or unwillingness. If you are in this room now, even if spiritually," she motioned to Francis, "You are here to encourage and witness the blossoming of a love you will probably never see again! You are here to encourage love, not war, in all its forms! Love is not to be discriminated against because love is always pure! You," she poked Ludwig in the chest, "At leas should know what that feels like. And you," she moved to Gilbert, "_Will_ know what it feels like or so help me I will hit you so hard your ancestors will see stars!" She stepped back to regard them both, "Now, do you understand?"

"Sir, yes sir!"

"Will you help with whatever you are asked to do?"

"Sir, yes sir!"

"Will you tolerate and accept love in all its forms?"

"Sir, yes sir!"

"Excellent." She smacked them both in one fell swoop with her concealed frying pan, "And it's _ma'am_, obviously."

The Germans, holding throbbing heads, sat down, wondering what just happened. Feli spike next, "V-Ve, Lizzie can be scary sometimes."

She smiled warmly at the Italian, "Only when I have to be. Now," she turned to the mildly terrified Frenchman, "For the sake of everyone here, would you please give us the full situation."

"Er, Alfred's in love with Mattie and vice versa, but neither are aware of the other."

Mai sighed, "A classic but tragic situation." Kiku nodded in agreement.

"If I figure correctly," Francis continued, "If we can just lock them in a room together—"

Feli shook his head, "No, they're too stubborn to do it themselves. Ve, they need some kind of… instigator?" Ludwig nodded, "Instigator!"

There were nods and murmurs of agreement. Gilbert rolled his eyes, "Yes, because we're just going to have someone ask about their love life or some shit. That'll go by quite smoothly."

Elizabetha fingered her frying pan, "Any other suggestions then, Gil?" The Prussian held up his hands in mock surrender.

Kiku shook his head, "No, he's probably right. Though, perhaps…" He glanced at Mai. Mai glanced back before looking to Liz who gave a slight nod.

Gilbert groaned, he's seen that nod before. Elizabetha mercifully ignored him and turned to Francis, "Sometimes miscommunication makes for a great spark of honesty."

Blue eyes widened in understanding, "_Oui_, so it does."

Luz turned to speak to the room when a soft knock sounded on the door. Without waiting for an answer, Matthew stepped inside, "Hey, Gilbert cou…" He stopped when he saw the residents of the room, "Ah…"

Seeing a near imperceptible flick of the Hungarian's eyes, Gilbert rose with a grin, "coming Mattie," he turned to Ludwig as he as leaving, "Check ya later West!" The room remained quiet as Gilbert's animated talking faded down the hall.

Francis spoke first, "_Mathieu_ looks thinner…"

* * *

><p>Ch. 15, Hungary's back! ... I hope I used the proper form of her name...<p>

First time writing Taiwan! I love that little yaoi trio~  
>Speaking of which, writing this was actually giving me flashbacks to my fangirl years. And I just really wanted to write that scene where Hungary is acting like a general.<p>

**Non! Non! ****C'est François!**** - **No! No!It's Francis. (Fr)  
><strong>Désolé<strong>- Sorry (Fr)  
><strong>Beaux-<strong> - Fine (Fr)  
><strong>Ce n'est pas le point!<strong> - That's not the point! (Fr)  
><strong>L'amour – <strong>Love (Fr)  
><strong>Oui – <strong>Yes (Fr)  
><strong>Si- <strong>Yes (It)  
><strong>Je suis bien<strong> -I am well  
><strong>Ja- <strong>Yes (Ger)  
><strong>Mathieu –<strong> Matthew (Fr)


	16. Chapter 16

Francis sat twirling his wineglass uneasily. He went through the mental checklist the dozenth time in the past half hour. Confiscation of Alfred's phone? _Check_. Mattie called? _Check_. Lizzie's equipment set up? _Check_. Getting Alfred drunk? _Working on it. I hope Arthur doesn't go overboard…_ He sighed and set the glass down. _Mattie's flight should be in by four. Hopefully the idiot would have slept most of it off by then._

The opening of the front door and some loud yelling in English, Gaelic, and French alerted the Frenchman of his lover's return home. He went to find the Englishman leaning heavily on a flush-faced American. Alfred dumped the potty mouthed Brit into a chair before stumbling into his room _Well, that was easy._ "Come on, _mon amour_, lets go." He lifted Arthur up, "You did well. The rest is up to them." After putting his lover to bed he next went to prepare Alfred for his brother's arrival.

~X~

Matthew got the call late one Friday. He'd just gotten back from work when his phone rang. "Hello, Matthew Williams s—"

"Mathieu!"

"Francis?"

"_Oui_. Did you get a call from the hospital?"

"What? No. What's going on?"

"_Non?_ Well, Alfred became suddenly ill not two days ago." Matthew felt himself go cold, "We took him to the hospital. I thought you knew."

"No." Matthew was breathless. Alfred's in the hospital, "How is he? What hospital? Do we know what he has?"

"He's stable, and I believe it had something to do with his heart…"

Matthew had run to his room and was hurriedly stuffing a bag, "Where? I'm coming right over."

"Calm down, _mon cher_, he's stable. Thy said he just needed rest, he's still at Arthur's."

Matthew took only a moment to pause, "I'm coming right over."

"_Oui._" The Canadian hung up.

It was one of the longest, most stress filled flight Matthew's ever been on. He had checked his phone every other minute and felt the urge to pace the plane. Finally, they landed. Matthew managed to remember the address from when he'd written there.

It was 4:30 when he finally arrived. As he approached the door he noticed a note taped to it. He read it incredulously.

_Mathieu,_

_He's down the hall, last door on the left. The doctor said continuous noise would keep his brain stimulated but don't wake him. Arthur and I will be back shortly. -Francis_

_They left him __**alone**__?_ He crumpled the paper and went inside. Immediately he went to the last room.

Alfred was placed neatly under the covers. His face was flushed but he was snoring slightly. Matthew took this as a good sign. He dropped his bag on the floor and set on the edge of the bed. "What happened? This was really sudden." He spoke softly. Normally he would keep his thoughts to himself but he figured speaking to his brother counted as 'continuous noise'. "It was Arthur's cooking, wasn't it? You should know better than that by now." He looked at his brother's flushed face, "I never got to tell you… Before you left." He reached out and stroked some of his brother's soft hair. A slight, familiar scent hit his nose but he didn't dwell on it. "Why did you suddenly want to come here? Was it something someone said? I didn't mind you staying at my house. Actually, I really enjoyed your company.

"… Natalia said I had three options. You took the second one. I would have taken the third but… I guess since you're sleeping…" Matthew sighted and ran his had through his pale yellow hair, then looked at the ceiling as the rested his hand where his brother's was under the sheets, "I guess you could say we were never really brothers. At first you were a pen pal with the title of 'brother'. Later, it became friendship. It was when we first met, I think, when it turned to love. … It's kind of ironic how it was Mother's funeral. I just assumed it was brotherly because I didn't know any else at the time. I'm not entirely sure when it changed. It was just something I accepted without labelling. I love you." Matthew paused as if waiting for a response, the chuckled, "And then you had to go and get yourself sick—"

"Who said that?"

Matthew had a heart attack, jumped out of his skin, and scurried back the far corner of the bed, simultaneously, "A-Alfred! You're awake!"

The American sat up, "Yeah."

"B-But Francis said…" And then it hit him, "Je vais le tuer."

Alfred gave a light laugh, "Yeah, I was wonder why Arthur offered to take me drinking." As he crawled out from under the covers Matthew noted he was wearing a thin, dark blue muscle shirt and red and white striped shorts.

He swung his legs off the bed but his brother lunged, hugging his waist and successfully pinned him down, "Eh?"

Alfred nuzzled his face into the Canadian's side, so he almost didn't catch the muffled words, "Didja mean it?"

"M-Mean what?"

A pair of sky blue eyes looked up at him, "That you loved me."

Matthew felt his face heat up and he suddenly found the opposite wall very attractive, "Of course I love you Al."

He could feel the American frown. Then his body shifted but he didn't release his arms. He emitted a small yelp when he felt himself being pulled onto his twin's cross-legged lap. Purple eyes met blue, "You know what I mean."

Matthew couldn't speak, so he answered in the only way he knew how. He reached up and cupped the back of Alfred's head and pulled him down into a kiss.

It was quick, simple, and chaste, but it dispersed doubt and created a warm glow within them. Matthew smiled, "I love you Alfred."

Alfred felt his heart fly. He kissed Matthew again, deeper, much more passionately. Needy in its desire to both meld them together and express the emotions he's been battling, a battle he willingly surrendered to. They pulled apart only for air, "God, I love you too Mattie."

* * *

><p>Only one this time, but there's a reason. You see, there's only two more after this, and they're both fairly short. I'm working on another idea, but it's taking me a while to get started. I'm excited about it though! More on that next week... or maybe the week after.<p>

Don't worry all you perverts. You get the M stuff next week.

**Mon amour-** my love

**Oui- **Yes

**Non- **no

**Mon cher- **My dear

**Je vais le tuer.****-** I'm going to kill him.


	17. Chapter 17

Matthew leaned in for another kiss and twined his arms around Alfred's neck. He opened his mouth and their tongues danced. His brother tasted and smelt faintly of alcohol, but also of those burgers he so loved.

Fe felt himself being shifted. Not wanting to break the kiss he clung to the other's neck as he was gently laid back onto the bed. When the American broke away he released a moan. He wasn't neglected for long; Alfred turned his attention to Matthew's slender neck. He felt the smaller man squirm under him, allowing him to situate himself between the Canadian's legs. Even through the multiple layers of fabric, they could feel each other's hardness. Alfred groaned, "Dear God, Mattie, you have no idea how much I've wanted this." Granted, he hadn't even know himself until now.

Matthew gasped with pleasure as the other blonde shifted his hips. Alfred redirected his attention to the perfect, smooth, pale skin, marking it with kisses and love-bites. Matthew's wordless vocalizations made Alfred strain against the cloth of his shorts.

He moved up to kiss him once more and fan his fingers through the strands of pale gold. He'd accidentally snagged the peculiar curly strand and tugged it.

Matthew's reaction was immediate and very intriguing.

"Ah! Alfred!" He could feel the smaller body arch against his and the nails across his biceps. If his face wasn't flushed before it was now, a deep rosy shade. He panted as Alfred released the curl. He managed to speak in between the heavy breaths, "Please, please don't do that."

Alfred didn't answer at first, instead claiming another kiss as he slid his hands along the heated flesh up his shirt. He disconnected to slip the shirt off the slender torso, "Why shouldn't I?"

"Because, it makes me fell… Ah!"

Alfred took a small pink bud into his mouth and sucked. He trailed kisses to its twin, "Fine, I'll leave it." He nipped the other nipple.

Matthew was running his hands over every inch of tanned skin he could touch. He could feel the warmth coiling in his abdomen, going lower. His hands trailed down a well-toned stomach and slipped inside the waistband of his shorts. Alfred's breath hitched as nimble fingers travelled lower. He groaned when they wrapped around his shaft, "Dear God, Matthew." He gritted his teeth and pulled the hands off of him.

"B-But I—"

"You're gonna make me cum before we even get started."

"G-Get started?" Alfred grinned devilishly as he made Matthew's hands grasp the headboard, "Al—" His protests were smothered with a kiss. Hands trailed down the lean torso. They made quick work of the belt, fumbling with the fly, before stripping him completely, undergarments and all. Matthew whimpered when the cold air hit him.

Alfred took his time, focusing on ravishing his legs, one at a time. Then he trailed up his thigh, lingered breathily for a moment over his balls, before licking his cock from base to tip. Matthew squirmed. He toyed with the slit, kissed it, and slowly took it into his mouth. Matthew's hands tangled themselves in Alfred's hair, arching against him, seeking more friction.

Alfred was only too happy to oblige. His head bobbed and his tongue stroked, trying to taste as much of Matthew as was possible. Matthew moaned and panted above him, tugging on his hair, Alfred focused on suppressing the need to clench his teeth. Taking as much of him in as possible and hummed. "Ha, Alfred!"

Alfred braced himself as his mouth was filled. He slowly drew up and swallowed the cum. Mattie was flushed and panting, legs splayed and hair a fucking mess. His lips were engorged from their kisses and the sheets around him were in a tangle. It was the sexiest thing Alfred ever saw. He kissed the image before him; tasting him and drawing him back out. He fought the temptation to just take him, to find the friction that his erection so desperately needed. "Alfred, I don't think—"

"Please," fuck, when did he start begging? "Please Mattie?" The curl tickled the side of his face. He only had to glance at it before licking it.

Matthew groaned, "A-Again." Yes sir. Using his tongue, he drew the curl into his mouth, nipped it, and tugged, "Ah!" Matthew could already feel himself becoming hard again. Bu then he noticed a sudden breeze as Alfred wasn't over him any more.

The American was rummaging around in the bedside table. "Kinky bastard," he drew out a tube of lube. He smeared three fingers before repositioning himself over the Canadian, "You okay?" Matthew nodded.

He kissed him as he thrust two of his fingers in, muting his scream. He gritting his teeth, slight guilt growing at his impatience, "Relax Matt, I don't want to hurt you." Gently, he began to move his fingers, stretching the tight passage. Lips met skin and tried to distract him.

Matthew relaxed and eventually began pushing against the two fingers, so he inserted the third. At one point Matthew arched and gave a breathless scream. Noting the spot Alfred pulled his fingers out and replaced them with his dick, slick with pre-cum. He moaned as Mattie's warmth surrounded him. His first thrust aimed for his sweet-spot. Matthew shouted again, nails cutting into his skin as he gripped him.

The lust turned him primal. The friction was bliss as his erratic thrusts drove him deeper, deeper into the velvety warmth that he claimed for his own. He heard himself saying something, repeating a word, but he was too lost in the man below him to care. At some point his hand had snaked around and was tending to Matthew's own need, pumping his slick erection in a pattered that shadowed his own. Matthew's vocalizations became louder and more incoherent; his nails drew blood from the heated skin of Alfred's shoulders.

Matthew came first. Screaming Alfred's name, he painted their chests' in his essence. His passage tightened around Alfred, making him cum soon after.

They lay panting for some time after, exhausted but fulfilled. Eventually, Matthew's leaden arms fell to his side. Alfred realised he bitten Matthew's shoulder and released himself. He turned onto his side and pulled the Canadian with him, holding him close. They drifted off into the calmest slumber they've had since Alfred arrived on his porch not three weeks earlier.

Well, I have been asked, so here you go. Three pages of pure smut. I hope it's not as bad as I feel it is. Not in a very… er… you know, didn't feel like writing it right now.

* * *

><p>Well, I have been asked, so here you go. Three pages of pure smut. I hope it's not as bad as I feel it is. Not in a very… er… you know, didn't feel like writing it right now. Also, I noticed I'm gonna need some more practice... Not sure if that's a good or a bad thing.<p>

Well, only thing left is the afterword. Hope you liked it you perverts.


	18. Afterword

It's been a month since that fateful night. A month since the community Yaoi group emerged. A month since Elizabetha, Kiku, and Mai recorded (and published) the largest, most beautiful example of boys' love any of them has ever seen. A month since Matthew's last felt depressed. A day less than a month since Alfred returned with him to Canada.

A month since Ludwig stopped trying to comprehend the world, and its inhabitants, around him.

A month later Alfred drove to the ITTC HQ to pick up Matthew from work. When he arrived on the appropriate floor he was greeted with darkness and empty halls. He was immediately put on his guard, "Mattie?" He took a tentative few steps inside, gripping a device in his back pocket, "Mattie, you ready to go?" A few more steps….

His vision flashed, his hearing roared with some incomprehensible language, and something molested him—hard.

Turning towards the molester, he whipped the device out of his pocket and fired. The sound of a body hitting the floor reached him.

Blinking to try to erase the rest of the black spots, he looked to see who he'd hit. Francis lay sprawled on the floor, shirt fully open, with a grin on his face. Quirking an eyebrow he turned around to find the place filled with very shocked people. Blue eyes met purple and he smiled, "Uh, what's going on?" The Canadian shrugged, just as confused as his lover.

From the crowd bounded a brunette girl, with a bright, yaoi fan-girling smile, "Happy one month anniversary!"

A moment passed before Matthew facepalmed and Alfred grinned, "Yeah, it has been a month, hasn't it?"

"Al, please don't encourage her."

He next found himself plastered up against a certain American's side, "Aww, but Matt, we should celebrate!"

"Ve~ We're all gonna go eat at Pasta!" The smiling Italian glanced at the still passed out Francis, "Well, maybe all of us."

"Speaking of which," the Canadian began, "What did you do to him?" He glanced at the device Alfred was still holding."

"Oh yeah," he held the boxy looking gun thing up, "They had me working on this. It emits and directs a frequency that causes the nerves in the brain to go into overdrive, shutting down the cranial system," he paused, thoughtful, "It's actually never been tested before. Its effects on the brain are unknown." He shrugged.

There was a slack-jawed pause before Mattie half hugged him back, "You're an idiot."

"As sweet as this is," a rankled Prussian started, "I feel like I'm going to awesomely lose my lunch. Oh wait, I haven't eaten yet!" He was temporarily silenced with a clang of metal on skull.

Alfred laughed, "Yes! Let's go eat!" Gilbert led the way, picking up the still unconscious Francis as he went. The chattering group followed, unknowingly leaving behind Alfred and Matthew. The American cupped his lover's chin and kissed him. Mattie responded warmly. Pulling apart he leaned his forehead against the other's. They smiled before leaving, fingers intertwined, close, but not unobstructed.

They are, after all, brothers by blood. Such a thing is taboo after all. So they keep their love close, cherishing what they have, and continue on; together, happy.

~X~

When they made it to the parking lot they were greeted with the sight of Gilbert trying to stay ahead of a furious white ball of fur. "Al! Get this fucking beast away from my awesome self!"

Alfred grinned and crossed his arms, "What, awesome you can't take care against a cub?"

Matthew's eyes went wide and jumped in, managing to grip the white cub around the middle and hugged it to himself. It calmed down almost immediately but still seemed to glare at the panting albino. "Alfred," Matthew's voice held awe and trepidation, "Where did you get a polar bear cub?"

"Just found him by the road. Thought he was cute. Didn't know they came down this far south."

"They don't."

Alfred shrugged, "It was going to be a gift for you. So, happy one month I guess." He smiled.

Matthew couldn't help it, he smiled too but shook his head, "You know, most people pick up stray puppies or kittens or something."

"I'm too awesome for that." Gilbert snorted.

"Well… is it even legal to keep him?"

"Who cares!" Matthew sighed.

Unexpectedly, Kiku walked out from the group of people and calmly petted the cub on the head, "Kumajiro. That's his name."

Alfred quirked an eyebrow but refrained from speaking. Matthew introduced himself to the bear, "Hello Kumajuno, I'm Matthew. You're very soft."

"Who?"

* * *

><p>There it is. The End.<p>

My longest fic to date, focusing on something other than my OTP. ... Or any other coupling I care about. I don't really remember what prompted me to write this couple... Anyway, rather OCC but I'm fond of it. Need to work on some things, like... things. Oh, and the yaoi scenes need work.

Anywho, hoped you liked it! I'm working on other ideas but I'm not sure if I'm gonna post anything next Sunday. Just a warning.


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